Hazard: Zero To One
by Indigo Siren
Summary: Set straight after RE0. Rebecca's story during the Mansion incident. A once confident rookie finds herself plunging further into the horror, and with her fellow BRAVO's surcoming to the nightmare, will she find the strength and courage to survive...
1. Chapter 1: Zero To One

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is __ to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**A/N: My first proper Resident Evil story. A multi part that will document on the Bravo Team's escapades after RE0 through to the end of RE1, following Rebecca's own adventure after leaving Billy Coen. It always interested me how different she is between 0 and 1, how tough she acts and such before the mansion, but when getting there, begins to appear more rookie-like then before. I want to show that progression from one stage to another. And I simply just want to write a story about Rebecca really. Hope you enjoy! Finally, no flames please. If you don't like, don't review. Thanks.**

**Chapter 1: Zero to One**

The early morning glow settled softly across the expanse of wilderness below. The Arklay Mountains were calm, disturbed only by a faint breeze brushing through the lush undergrowth. That, and the distant sound of footsteps ascending a makeshift trail through the heavy thickets.

Those tedious footsteps awkwardly navigating a trail of pine cones and broken branches filled the soundless void where the wildlife should have been. Usually birds were singing their early morning song and little rodents scurried across this thriving territory, their nails scratching against the summer dry earth. But today, under the pale rays of the sun, there was no life whatsoever. There hadn't been for a month or so.

Just a land of emptiness.

After the night she'd had, poor S.T.A.R.S. Bravo Medic, Rebecca Chambers found herself only marginally comforted by her surroundings. Daylight had washed away the shadows that had once obscured the sight of oncoming danger, though she was hoping that the threat was now well and truly over. She prayed longingly for peace under the light of a new day.

But a sense of foreboding clung to her, making her think otherwise.

A part of her wanted the shadows back. She needed the gloom to make everything seem less real. Darkness, though a terror of its own, blanketed the worst of the horror. Even so, after the last ten hours, a little bit of sunlight did raise her waning spirit. Frankly, she didn't look forward to facing anything in broad daylight. The idea of seeing zombie creatures rotting under a hot sun brought bile up to the back of her throat. Clearing her thoughts of such disurbing images, she was left only with the heavy sense of forlorn.

It had been a lonely trek for the rookie after parting Billy Coen's company. Most of the courage she'd mustered before was now subdued by her anxiety. What had become of the rest of her team? Were they all okay? Did they make it to the mansion Captain Marini had told her about?

Did they go through as much of the horror as she had? What if they were in trouble right now? She hoped if they were alive that their condition was better then her own.

Though not carry any real physical injury, she looked pretty worse for wear after the long, gruelling night. Dirt smeared across a once clean green and white uniform, leaving her looking rather tattered. The distinct markings of dried blood caked across her combat gear. Most of which was not her own.

Her hand rested tiredly, though dutifully, on the butt of a .50 Calibre Magnum tucked into her belt. It eased her worries somewhat.

It wasn't the only weapon she was carrying on her person. In her thigh holster was her S.T.A.R.S. issued Beretta M92FS, complete with three clips in her pack. Strapped to her back was a 12 gauge shotgun, with only six rounds left. All in all, the combined arsenal made her feel that she had at least a slim chance in handling herself if things started to go wrong again.

_Hopefully it won't_, she told herself, trying to make it a firm belief that when James Marcus died, the horror died with him.

_Leech men, zombies, mutant dogs, frog monsters, undead monkeys…_ It was like something out of a horror writer's wildest dream. And she'd seen it all. _Survived _it all. Cursing under her breath, she tried to cast her thoughts aside, checking instead her watch to see how good her progress was so far.

She'd left Billy's company just after sunrise; sometime after six she estimated the first time she checked her watch. Now, it was just turning ten past eight, roughly two hours on. She had made good time across the forest trac. It had not been the easiest path to travel.

Thus far, it had been quiet - too quiet for her liking - but it was better then jumping at every sound around her. She surmised it could take about another hour to get to the mansion from her current position.

It wasn't too long before she found herself back at the rail tracks where the Ecliptic Express once stood. Besides the broken glass on each side of the line, it was as if it had never been there at all. She crossed over, trying to give it as little thought at possible.

_I shouldn't be too far from the chopper now_, she thought and suddenly brightened up. She wondered if Kevin Dooley would still be there, or maybe he'd gone with the Bravo team when things had gone wrong? All she could hope was that he had stayed safe with either choice. But after what had happened with Edward Dewey…

She bit her lip, pushing her way through the trees with greater determination despite her weary state.

The back end of the downed helicopter suddenly came into sight through a mesh of drooping trees. It's shell looked in worse condition now she saw it in daylight. The tail was completely trashed, crumpled at a ninety degree angle to the right. The once white painted exterior was dishevelled with dirt and smoke stains.

It would definitely not fly again.

"Kevin?" She called out, not raising her voice too much. She still couldn't trust she was safe enough to call out properly. There was only silence in response. She tried again, this time relenting and calling louder. "Kevin!" Her voice echoed surprisingly loud around her, sending an involuntary shudder down her spine. Still, no answer to her call.

_Maybe he has gone on ahead…_

She rounded the left side of the chopper and paused mid-step.

The side window of the cockpit was smashed inward. The ledge was smattered with red marks that could only be one plausible thing. Further sidestepping and she could see the front panes were badly damaged. One was streamed with spider web cracks, and the other was shattered into an uneven half, with the top part still hanging like glass teeth in the frame.

She swallowed silently, her mouth suddenly very dry. Each step she took only made her heart beat faster.

_I'm ready for this, I'm ready for this…_

The magnum had been drawn the second she'd seen the smashed window. The weight in her hands gave her self-assurance that if anything inhuman lingered, they'd be picking their brains out of the grass with a pair of tweezers.

Her eyes combed the area around her as she proceeded with cautious steps towards the broken cockpit window. It wasn't in her best interest to get ambushed from behind, so she kept her back firmly to the metal shell of the chopper, turning only when she came to the side of the window.

She held up the magnum vertical, ready at a seconds notice to fall into her shooters' stance as slowly but surely she turned to peer into the cockpit.

The gasp in her throat was choked as she recoiled with shock at the sight fixing her to the spot. Kevin's twitching body was sprawled in the far seat, small noises coming from his dying throat. Around the cockpit was pure blood and carnage, with him as the unfortunate root. The side of his face was slashed with deep claws marks, the right eye completely destroyed. The socket was now simply filled with a pulpy mess of clear liquid, fragmented bone and blood. His torso was ravaged beyond belief. His stomach a massive gaping hole of gore. Half of his digestive system pooled out like chunky soup into his lap.

And yet, he was still alive. Though, not for much longer anyway…

Distraught, Rebecca dropped her guard and rushed to the side hatch of the helicopter hoping in vain to alleviate his suffering from whatever brutally attacked him. Of course, the second she managed to pry the hatch, her horrors further elevated as two, black furry masses of death turned, their white, hungry eyes locked onto her. They swallowed the chunks of bloodied flesh they'd be chewing on and turned towards the young woman.

_Zombie dogs!_ She jumped aside, her mind burning with renewed dread as the two hellhounds leapt out the back of the helicopter.

They were badly decomposing. Their heads, chests and legs all torn to reveal glistening sinew and bone. The smell alone they emitted was ungodly, turning Rebecca's stomach in tight knots. But she didn't have time to focus on that now. The two zombie pooches had landed and were making a beeline straight for her.

With no time to lose, she hoisted the magnum up and targeted the closest. She pulled the trigger, sending a bullet straight through the rotting side of the hound. It was almost split in two and was sent tumbling a few metres from where she was crouched.

The other bound and leapt, slathering jaws coming down on her. Quickly aiming up, she pumped a round straight into the neck of the creature, near enough decapitating it. It hit the ground unmoving at her feet. The other was trying desperately to claw towards her, growling with hungry fury. A bullet to the brain obliterated the cranium and stopped the dog dead in its tracks.

Her heart thumped relentlessly as she backed up to the hatchway of the chopper, scanning quickly inside for other threats before searching down the end of the barrel across the land site. With no other obvious danger, she pulled herself into the chopper and with a strain managed to heave the hatch closed.

It was only a makeshift safety barrier. If anymore dogs decided to come, they still had the broken windows to get through. She hoped and prayed it had only been the two.

Now that the crisis was temporarily averted, Rebecca turned her attention back to Kevin, scrambling over the forward bench to his position. Though she was supposed to be hardened to all levels of bodily trauma, she couldn't help but feel horrified by the state of the team's substitute pilot.

She knew there was nothing she could do for him now as she tenderly reached out to touch his shoulder. He convulsed violently under her touch, his surviving eye rolling up in her direction, wide with agony.

It was already filming over.

"If only I'd got here sooner," she whispered, her eyes blurring up with tears. "I'm so sorry…"

His mouth opened and closed, not only gasping for air but trying to form words on his last dying breaths. But they were garbled by the blood bubbling in his throat, eventually spilling out down both sides of his face. From her side pack, she pulled out a strip of gauze, pitifully dabbing it against his bloodied lips, whispering meaningless apologies the whole while. She kept wishing over and over that the whole episode was just a dream.

With one last back-arching spasm, he flopped heavily between the two pilots' seats and fell still.

Carefully, she lifted her hands away from his lifeless body. The gauze fell to the seat beside her. Her quivering hands came to rest against her wet cheeks as she slipped back off the bench and onto the floor. One deep breath after another, she pushed back the tears. It was hard going, but she managed to swallow down the need to go into hysterics.

_Got to stay strong_, she told herself. _For everyone's sake._

She'd done well so far, but it wasn't easy. At some point, the need to grieve would take control of her and she didn't know how good to anybody she'd be then. For now though she had to stay focused on the task at hand.

Get to the mansion in one piece.

Once calmed and certain the tears wouldn't come back, she began to loot the chopper for any needed supplies.

Two first aid sprays were tucked into a medical box under the bench on the back wall. There were also some fresh bandages in plastic wrap. She'd used up a lot of her supplies during the trek around Umbrella's horrific training facility. It was good to be able to stock up again before she ventured further into unknown territory.

Ammo wise, she found another clip of 9mm bullets for her Beretta and two sets of six rounds for the magnum. There was no sign of any shotgun ammo at all. It didn't bother her too much, seeing as she managed to scrape herself a nice little bundle.

Having gathered all the supplies she could, she collected whatever courage she had left and abandoned the chopper. There were no other signs of dogs in close proximity, but it didn't ease her nerves one bit. She decided to keep the magnum out in case she faced any other unexpected foes.

With one last solemn look at the helicopter, she said a quiet prayer for Kevin and moved on with semi-hurried steps into the thick undergrowth.

It wasn't so bad now. The trees weren't so close together, and she wasn't having to bound precariously over tree roots and stray logs. Though now she had to contend with the waist high grass. She slowed, just so that she could adjust her hearing to distinguish the sound of her own movements from what could potentially be others.

For now, she was alone.

She lashed her way through the dry grass with one hand to hurry the process along. The other was poised with the magnum pointed shakily upwards. She wanted to get out of this patch as quickly as possible, not keen on being blindsided while she was in an awkward position.

Eventually, the grass height dropped rapidly as the area around her spread into a less dense patch of the forest. Soon she was trotting over an even levelled pasture. The masses of big oaks spread apart and the young medic came upon a clearing. Spaced around were flamboyant Pine's in full leaf. Thin rays of light danced through the leafs, turning the forest floor a sparkling gold.

Almost beautiful. _Almost_.

Distantly, the trees grew thicker and closer together, obscuring the further horizon, much to her dismay.

_Which way now?_ She considered, somewhat perturbed by her lack of directional sense. It was at times like this that she wished she'd taken more interest in orienteering.

A sudden hiss had her spinning on the spot, her handcannon up in a flash-

-Her shaky breath was suddenly held, only until she came to realise the hissing and whining was coming from the radio on the back of her belt.

She let out a nervous laugh at her own stupidity and grabbed hold of the communication device while tucking away her weapon. The clicking and buzzing of the wavering radio waves chattered at her as she tried to make out what seemed to be a distant, deep voice amidst the lively static. She hit the receive button and held it up close to her mouth.

"Hello? Can you here me? This is Rebecca. Over."

The whining of static crackled louder, though through obstructing sounds, a voice became clearer, and more apparent to whom it belonged to.

"Can you… … This… … Enrico… What are… Positions… … Respond… Careful… … In the mansion…"

"Enrico!" Rebecca called into the receiver. "This is Rebecca! I can just about hear you! Where are you? Over."

"Repeat… … Respond… Where…" The Captain's voice began to break up beyond any comprehension.

Rebecca furiously worked at the radio, though she'd never been all that good at operating one. Her efforts were doing nothing to resolve the issue.

"Captain! Can you hear me? I repeat, this is Rebecca! Over."

His voice was merging into the crackling static, and she was left fumbling desperately with the radio, not realising she was attracting the attention of unknown foes amidst the trees.

Rebecca remembered suddenly of the second radio. Before they had parted company, Billy had returned Edward's radio to her. He wasn't going to need it anymore.

Quickly, she opened her side pack and removed the radio, switching it on.

"Captain Marini!" She called anxiously into the radio. "This is Rebecca! Please, if you can hear me, I am not too far away from the mansion. I will be there soon. If you can, please tell me your position. Over."

All she got was a faded echo of what was Enrico's voice, and the reverberation from her original radio with her own frantic voice. The static finally settled into a low hum, but he was gone now. With a sigh, she switched off the second radio and tucked it back into her pack.

Just as she was about to tuck the first back onto the back of her belt, she heard a growl.

And then another. And another…

"Oh God…" Her breathless exclamation led her to turn carefully, finding herself within three hundred feet of four Cerberus dogs, stalking from between the trees towards her with the intention to kill.

Their sticky, ichorous flanks were peeling away in clumps from the bone. These creatures should have been rotting quietly somewhere, but no, here they were moving with a fluidity that the dead shouldn't have.

Slowly, she reached for the magnum, bracing herself in a comfortable shooting position with a single step back. Just as the barrel slipped from the belt, the dogs charged at her.

The magnum was quickly up and firing. The shot sailed high into the shoulder of the first, tearing the leg partially away from its body. The beast was spun by the shot and took out the legs of one of its compatriots, sending it to the floor on top of it.

Turning quick and firing at another, she hit home with a direct shot to the head. Its skull exploded in a shower of bone and brain, the body tripping over itself and rolling haphazardly in the grass. The one behind leapt over its fallen friend and picked up speed as it got within leaping distance of the young medic. She couldn't even get off another shot as the beast jumped up at her, slamming its weight full on into her chest. As she went down, she snapped her head aside just in time avoid the jaws biting down onto her face.

As she hit the grass, she slammed her fists into its slimy hide and thrust the dog away a few metres.

Rebecca moved onto her side, took aim the best she could and fired. It blasted the creature in the hip and flipped it over. But it was still 'alive', and dragging itself up. She pulled the trigger again. CLICK.

_DAMN IT!!!_

Hurriedly she discarded the empty chamber and scrambled in her pack for another, and at the same time, scrambled backwards on her backside to try and keep some distance between her and the dog she'd just shot. But that one wasn't the only one to worry about. The first, now three-legged beast, was scrambling in her direction, with its much more physically-abled friend charging quickly ahead to get first pickings of the fresh meat.

With her shaky hands hindering her process, it took longer then she hoped to ram the ammo into its chamber. Six fresh bullets ready to go and a dog practically on top of her. Leaning back, she threw the gun up with the jaws of death within metres of her and fired a shot, obliterating the muzzle and pretty much all of the face of the offending beast. It's limp body landed on top of her.

She rolled it off, scrambling to her feet in fear and disgust and began to run. The direction didn't matter too much, as long as it was the opposite one to the monsters.

She didn't have to worry about the beast with the shattered hip. It wasn't going anywhere very fast. However, the three legged Cerberus was adapting to losing a limb by the sheer will of its hunger. It gave chase, plodding at a fair speed.

She dashed through the network of trees, gritting her teeth as the muscles in her legs began to burn from exertion. Her knuckles were turning white as her grip tightened on her weapon.

Through the sounds of her own furious footsteps, racing heartbeat and ragged breaths, she could distinctly hear other 'life' bursting into the area. Rapid, beating paws tore across the stretch on either side of her. An involuntarily cry of fear passed her lips, knowing that at least three or more dogs had come from the depths of the forest in pursuit of her flesh.

Her mind had been set to go straight forward, to run on for as far as she could before she even tried to engage the pursuing hellhounds, but in a split second turning to her left to see how far to the side one set of the dogs were, she double-took as the outline of a large house came into her line of sight.

_THE MANSION! _There was still hope left.

Veering her course, she rose the weapon, cupped up against her right shoulder, as she turned and fired while still in a run at the on coming beasts charging through the undergrowth on her left. The first shot missed completely, taking a chunk out of a tree. The second skimmed the side of one of the two dog's heads, blasting a sizable chunk of meat and bone away. It staggered, growled and fell. She fired two more shots at the second, blowing one of its feet clean off and striking it in the upper chest, right into its heart. It went down hard and fast.

_Three left…_ The first crippled beast and its two new friends to the right…

The trees split away as she ran through the exit of the forest area and into the garden opening at the front of the mansion. A few more feet and she'd be at the surrounding fence. At least if she got that between her and the dogs, she'd have more of a chance to survive the pursuit.

Rebecca didn't know how much longer her legs were going to last. Her knees were red hot and burning. The muscles in her thighs and calves were so tight they brought tears to her eyes. But the adrenaline kept her going. She knew if she stopped, she'd be dead.

She was at the fence in mere seconds. The other dogs finally burst through the trees. Her hands scrambled along until she gripped the rusting iron gate. Her small hand fit through the bar and snagged the latch, thrusting the gate open. She rushed through, slamming it closed just as the dogs caught up, smashing into the metal obstruction and nearly tearing it off its rusty hinges. Rebecca back peddled and tripped, landing on her rear.

Startled, she rose the gun again and took aim, blasting at the bars and only managing to dint the iron.

The gun ran dry and she quickly searched out the last of her magnum ammo, and rammed it into the gun and aimed, firing again. The crippled dog had a hole blasted clean through its chest, and it dropped down like a sack of potatoes.

The other two Cerberus were restless. They weren't just about to let their meal get away. Both backed up, ready to leap the fence.

Rebecca noticed this and scrambled up, turning to regard the two sets of at least ten steps between her and the main double doors into the mansion. Without further hesitation, she rushed up, but her tired legs saw her stumbling up the last stretch. Of course, just as she was halfway up the second set of steps, the dogs bounded up and over the fence, tearing chunks of meat off their sides in the process.

She pushed onward, reaching out desperately for the door handle as she fell against it. Yanking it down, she found that it wouldn't budge. Horrified, she slammed her shoulder into the wooden obstacle, ramming the handle up and down desperately.

"NO! PLEASE, NO!" She cried, spinning as the clatter of those closing paws were right on her heels. Releasing the handle, she spun the gun up in a one handed grip and fired at the dog that was airborne in a leaping strike. It was blown out of the air with a high pitched yelp.

The gun bounced loose in her hand, and in those few vulnerable seconds, the other dog was suddenly on her. It leapt and slammed into her and the magnum was gone. It flew off into the thick shrubbery lining the steps.

A frightened scream ripped from her lips as the dog rammed her back against the door. She jammed her forearm under its bloodied neck, keeping its deformed jaws from taking chunks out of her.

Her struggle was desperate as she pounded her free hand into it's exposed ribs, shaking side to side as it scrabbled at her Kevlar vest with ragged claws. Shrieking, and with as much force as she could, she pushed forward and slammed the beast into an ornate pot vase decorating a pillar at the top of the steps. It fell away from her with a yelp, tumbling into the bushes. She staggered back to the entrance, eyes searching for the lost magnum.

As her back came in contact with the oak door, it suddenly flew open. She stumbled back in surprise. A clammy hand suddenly clamped around her arm and yanked her backwards hard. She couldn't turn quick enough and found herself screaming as she was pulled into the confines of the mansion. The world beyond was quickly shut out, and the previously pursing beast was beaten back by the strong door.

The hand slipped away from her and she tripped over her own two feet, falling hard against a shiny, marble floor. For the briefest of moments, she blacked out…


	2. Chapter 2: Reunited

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is © to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**Chapter 2: Reunited**

Blinking, Rebecca fought against the darkness. Her own fears were overriding the firm grip of exhaustion and drawing her back from the dangerous world of the unconscious. She hadn't been out for more than a minute before she was wide awake again, acknowledging with rising horror the hand firmly placed on her arm.

Her reaction was violent.

The scream that ripped from her lungs was charged with ear piercing ferocity; the sound intensified as it echoed around the large front hall. She pulled away from the touch, her mind flashing with images of the rotting undead as she lashed back defensively. Turning around, she tried to scramble across the smooth marble, and ultimately slipped in transit, crashing backwards onto on the cold floor. The butt of the shotgun unceremoniously punched into the lower curve of her back, forcing out a gasp of pain.

The figure above her quickly stepped backwards, hands in the air.

"Whoa, Rebecca, calm down! It's me!"

Her screaming stopped as the familiar voice met her ears. Blinking up at the figure, (hardly recognised before through her confusion) she came to realise that the man was not one of the flesh eating creatures roaming the Arkley district, but was in fact her comrade Kenneth Sullivan, Bravo team's point man.

By the time she had finishing embarrassing herself with her shrieking, her throat was red raw and croaky, and she could hardly respond to voice her relief. Instead, she just flopped back tiredly to her side while she waited for her heartbeat to stop racing.

Kenneth ran a hand over his smoothly shaved head, giving her a lopsided smile. "Sad to know I'm losing my charm."

Rebecca was eased by his words and coughed out what was meant to be a laugh, as she rolled herself up onto her hands and knees with whatever strength she had left. Kenneth offered her his hand, which she gratefully accepted and allowed him to pull her up to her feet.

After taking a deep breath, she managed to find her voice again. "I was so worried. I'm glad you're okay."

"Barely," he admitted. She finally noticed that he looked considerably battered and bruised, his flack vest dirtied from grime and blood. It prompted her to check him over, but he stopped her persistent movements. "I'm alright. There's no need for that." His hands came to rest gently on her shoulders. "Just relax, or you'll give yourself a heart attack." She hesitated a moment before desisting her actions.

Sighing to herself, she found her attention suddenly deviating from her comrade to the new scene around her. She stepped away, taken in complete awe by her surroundings.

The mansion's entrance hall was remarkable. A grand piece of architecture. It was lushly furnished with expensive décor from the rich red carpeting flowing down the solid oak stairs to the century old paintings proudly mounted in gold frames across the walls. The floor itself was so sharply polished that she could clearly see her reflection with perfect detail. Tall brass candle sticks stood at all corners of the hall, lit even during the daytime hours. They were dim with the bright sunlight shining through from a huge window of three long panes on the walkway directly above. On each side of the lower part of the hall were three doors. Both sides had a set of double doors, though the east side also had a single door to the north. There were two arches directly forward under each side of the staircase; they appeared to lead down a few steps onto another level. Above her head on the upper landing, were two sets of doors on each side. The west side had a pair of double doors and a single door, while the east had only two single doors.

Everything was so neatly laid out, beautiful to admire, though lost its sense of homeliness with the layer of dust that seemed to blanket everything in sight. Alive, but yet so vacant also.

The lights were on but nobody was home.

Maybe…

_Eerie_, she thought as a shudder tingled up her back. As grand as it was, she held no good feelings for the place. It was more comforting a haven then Umbrella's training facility, but more scary because it appeared more natural.

Something was nagging at her though…

"Quite something, isn't it?" He stepped up beside her, admiring the regal furnishings. The look on his face didn't seem wholly happy though. "But don't go letting its beauty deceive you. There's something seriously wrong here."

"Really?" She found herself sounding more tired then surprised.

"I was exploring through there," he pointed to the double doors on the east side of the hall, "and came face to face with the ugliest looking dead-man you could ever imagine. Worse then 'Night of the Living Dead', I'll tell you now."

"I wonder how far this has spread," she wondered aloud. "We can't seem to get away from it…" He was about to question her statement when she jumped, looking around with sudden regard to the fact that only herself and Kenneth were present in the mansion hall. "Where's the Captain? And Richard? And Forest?" Her guts twisted with anxiety, hoping to God that nothing bad had happened to them.

"I have no clue where Enrico is," Kenneth admitted with some exasperation. "I got a pretty scrambled message from him through my radio not too long ago."

"Same here."

He rubbed a gloved hand to a sweaty brow. "What about Edward? Have you seen him at all?"

Her eyes dropped sadly to the floor. "He didn't make it."

Kenneth wavered, turning away. He masked his emotions the best he could. "Damn…"

"And Kevin…" She added, barely able to force the words out.

He said nothing for a moment, just simply taking in the fact that two of their comrades were dead. He slowly turned back, speaking calmly. "I know Richard and Forest aren't too far away. They went exploring around the second floor while I was taking a look around here. I was just about to continue exploring when I heard you scream."

"I was lucky you were around," she said with great relief. "Thank you."

"No problem. If we stick together, I'm sure we'll have a better chance of survival."

She nodded. "Okay." There was now a more certain chance she'd get out of this nightmare alive.

"We'll continue the investigation to the east," he suggested, walking towards the double doors he'd previously been through. Rebecca was quickly at his heels, Beretta unholstered.

The room beyond the double doors was a sparsely decorated blue square. A small gallery by the looks of it. In the middle was a marble statue of a naked Greek woman with a vase propped atop her shoulder. Aside that, the only other object in the room was a chest of draws partially blocking the entrance to another area obscured in darkness. Rebecca was somewhat drawn over nervously until Kenneth clamped a hand on her shoulder. She jumped in response.

"Don't bother, I checked it already." He pointed to the only other door in the room. "Lets go."

She nodded, moving towards the new entranceway, though keeping a few steps back with her gun at the ready. Kenneth put his back to the wall as he reached across to take the handle. He nodded to her, and then opened it.

An empty narrow hallway lay ahead. It was fairly well lit, revealing no precarious looking shadows.

"We're clear," she said firmly, even if something inside her wasn't too sure if something was lurking silently afar.

Kenneth led the way in, scanning up the hallway with his own gun in front. Rebecca followed, quietly closing the door behind them.

Her eyes scanned the beige walls yellowing somewhat from age. There were a couple of china cases and dressers spaced against the walls, adding some surprising cosiness to the narrow space. There was a blind turn up head which Kenneth checked out, stopping at the wall's edge to carefully look around. With no foes in sight, he gave the thumbs up to Rebecca and went around.

The young medic paused when her foot brushed against something poking out under one of the china cases. Looking down, she noticed a black, plastic object and knelt down to retrieve it.

It was a spent cartridge for a gun that used 9mm bullets. Someone had passed through here at some point and discarded it. Scanning around, there was no obvious signs of a gun fight, nor any blood to indicate violence.

"Rebecca?" Kenneth called back.

"I'm coming!" She jogged quickly to catch up. He was waiting at the other end of the L shaped hallway in front of the exiting door. She showed him her finding.

"Maybe Enrico or someone came through," she suggested. "They might not be too far away."

He nodded. "We'll keep our eyes peeled." With the same routine as they'd used prior, they passed cautiously through the new door. Another hallway lay ahead, curving away through the dimness due to the lack of lighting. Two doors lay ahead, one wooden and the other made of steel. Rebecca tried the steel one, but it wouldn't budge.

"Locked," she muttered, turning as she heard Kenneth opened the other door. He peered in for the briefest of moments before shaking his head.

"Just a bathroom," he informed her and shut the door again.

Rounding the corner, they came into a wider part of the hallway, where a couple of windows lined, letting in a substantial amount of light through the dirty glass. Rebecca stepped over and looked outside, seeing nothing but trees and shrubs. She shrugged and carried on.

They rounded another blind turn, seeing nothing but two doors - one single to the left side and a pair of double doors to the right.

"I bet this place is huge," she said exasperatedly.

Kenneth simply shook his head, giving her a half grin. "That Spenser guy has more money then sense," he muttered aloud.

"Spenser?" She mused for a moment before the name seemed to click with files she'd read previously. "Oswald Spenser, head of Umbrella Incorporated?" It should have come to her sooner. It was obvious that this would have been an Umbrella owned establishment, and she felt herself inwardly cringe.

"That's the guy. He hired some hotshot to design and build this place." He motioned around him with an unimpressed grunt. "It was a waste of money. Last I heard, this place was suppose to be abandoned." He walked towards the double doors. "I guess the novelty wore off."

Rebecca said nothing, scowling to herself as she considered that this place, as with the Umbrella training facility, was just another playground for their virus. She wanted nothing more then to leave right there and then, but knew she had to find her other comrades.

_What a mess_, she thought as she tried the handle to the single door first. It opened with ease, though just as she was about to step in, she was hit by an overwhelming stench of rotten eggs and excrement. Gasping with a sickened choke, she stepped back just as the form of a rotting man ambled from behind the doorway.

She stumbled back, squeaking with horror. This zombie was worse than any she's faced so far. It looked like it had been around for a while, its skin so dry that it was flaking away from its exposed limbs in big clumps revealing sticky muscle and bone beneath. Its lips were completely peeled away from its mouth, leaving a permanent grin made up of blackened teeth. Its jaw heaved open, letting out a smell worse then fermenting road kill, as it hungrily lay milky white eyes on the young medic.

Her squeak alerted Kenneth, who turned around wide eyed at the reanimated dead man as it ambled out towards his comrade. His gun was up in a flash, and he took a aim.

He hesitanted. Rebecca was directly in his line of fire.

The zombie stumbled as it lurched forward, and Rebecca quickly backed up, hitting the corner of the wall. As it went to lunge for her, she threw herself aside and it smacked against the plaster partition, crushing its nose sideward with a sickening crack.

But it didn't care. It didn't feel pain. Its eternal hunger was its only drive now.

Now with a clear aim, Kenneth fired, hitting its shoulder just as it was turning. It was knocked backwards, though didn't fall.

Rebecca rushed over to her companion and grabbed his arm.

"Come on!" She urged.

He wasn't going to argue.

They took the chance and threw open one side of the double doors, barrelling through at break-neck speed before the zombie even had chance to give chase.

But even on the other side, there was no time to hesitate. At the far end of the new hallway, two zombies lurked, just as foul and rancid as the previous. One was like a giant, flaking scab with gore clinging to its face in thick clumps of red. The other was a hairless skeleton, skin dry and cracked, barely managing to cover over the shrivelled muscles showing from beneath. It ambled with great difficulty, as its body was nearly at the state of complete collapse. The other compared, dragged itself much quicker as it headed towards the fresh pray.

Kenneth was already flinging open the first of two doors to their right, grabbing Rebecca by the vest and pulling her quickly through after him. Rebecca used the back of her foot to kick the door closed and block out the groaning zombies, who a few moments later were scratching feebly at the wooden obstacle.

Just ahead, was a stairwell; but in the vicinity was the ominous sound of shuffling.

Rebecca hesitated, looking to Kenneth whose expression tightened. Half with annoyance, half with fear. She turned back to the previous door, listening with dread to the cries of the undead. It wasn't worth taking the chance to backtrack. It was too dangerous.

Kenneth quickly checked his magazine, noting there were ten bullets left before slamming it back in. He had another clip, but would it be enough?

He turned to Rebecca. "Are you ready to run?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." She raised her gun against her shoulder, giving him the go-ahead.

As uneasy as he was, if they could simply run by without engaging any of the undead and find somewhere to hold up until they could contact the others, things just might turn out alright.

He took the lead once again, running to the stairs. It was then he saw the decaying man, hanging out beneath the staircase. Upon hearing the two Bravos' movements it turned around with hungry intent in its filmed eyes and started after them. But its slow movements hindered its chase, as its pray took to the stairs with great speed.

They were both fine to ignore it, for its cumbersome staggering posed them no problems as long as they didn't hang around for too long. And there was definitely no chance of them doing that.

Rebecca struggled in her tired state to keep up with her comrade, who was already at the top of the stairs.

She stumbled up the second set at a slower pace, trying to catch her breath when she heard him make a panicked sound. Her heart skipped a beat as she forced herself to move faster. His gun was up at two more approaching undead foes, reaching out with grey, withered arms. He started to fire at them. Rebecca joined his side, aiming her own Beretta and aided the attempt to repel the flesh eaters. Neither of them were good shots and couldn't get a critical hit beyond the flailing limbs.

_So much for my luck before_, she thought, pulling the trigger with desperation. The minute it clipped empty, she quickly ejected and snapped in another clip of ammo, resuming the attack.

The two S.T.A.R.S. backed up to keep their distance between them and their foes. Kenneth clicked empty, and scrambled into his pack while Rebecca kept shooting.

One of the zombies was struck high in the chest and fell to the floor with a heavy grunt. Kenneth reloaded quickly and fired again, with a lucky shot that hit the now lone creature straight through the temple. A part of the back of its head exploded in thick globules of brain matter and bone. The zombie crumpled lifelessly at their feet.

Rebecca hit empty again. As she fumbled to reload, she noticed a door directly behind them. She rushed a few steps towards it and stopped startled when a dry murmur echoed down the passage to the side. To her horror, another zombie was making its way towards them. And behind her, the previously fallen zombie was starting to get back to its feet again, hardly effected by the multiple bullet wounds.

"Shit!" She heard Kenneth shout, resuming firing on the creature. Her eyes shot over the banister for the briefest second to notice the zombie below was making its way up the stairs.

She prayed that the door was going to be unlocked and hurriedly turned the handle -

- and to her horror, it came clean off, spilling out tiny little metal pieces from its inner workings. She could only stare at the handle in the utmost disbelief, trying to stupidly ram it back into the appropriate hole. But it was well and truly bust.

"ARGH!" Frustrated with their dire predicament, all she could do was throw the heavy item at the oncoming zombie. It clocked it straight in the head, pausing its movement only for a second before it started to approach again.

"What's wrong?!" Kenneth shouted over his own gun fire. The zombie was not going down, however much he shot it.

"THE HANDLE BROKE OFF!" She cried, slamming her shoulder into the door to try and budge it, but unfortunately, it stood strong.

There was no way to escape. Their was a zombie on every path. And the door was not going to open, however many times Rebecca attacked it with her shoulder.

"Please open!" She feebly begged, though was forced to abruptly cease her actions when she realised the zombie was practically on her. She jumped back, banging against the banister. Her gun was thrust up, the barrel grazing against the dirty clothing of the dead man.

_It's too late!_

Even when she pulled the trigger, the dead man had no reaction. Its icy hands reached for her, fingers curling around the edges of her shoulders...

… just as the broken door opened inwards, and fellow Bravo Richard Aiken was suddenly there, aiming his assault shotgun at the creature holding the young rookie.

"Get off her!"

A loud bang filled her ears…

… And the zombie's head exploded. Blood and brains rained around her in thick globules.

Rebecca was splattered across the face and chest with gore. She recoiled at the feeling of jellified remains on her skin and clothes, though was more horrified when the headless body crumpled against her. Richard snatched hold of it quickly and threw it backwards before she it knocked her off balance.

Kenneth suddenly cried out. The zombie had got hold of him, and he was barely able to hold the creature back from biting into his neck.

"KENNETH!" Rebecca made the movement to go to his aid, but Richard grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

"Leave it to me!" He pushed her in the direction of the open room. She tripped inside as he himself went to their comrade's aid.

Just before the zombie could sink its teeth into him, Richard grabbed hold of its shoulder. He ignored the sickening feeling as his fingers easily crushing its rotting flesh and detached it from his friend, slamming it up against the banister. It moaned with hungry frustration and lurched at the newcomer until it was cracked right in the head by the butt of the shotgun. The force sent it up and over the banister, crashing down to the floor below.

The two Bravos retreated quickly into the room.

It was a small study, lit only by a desk lamp. The space was cramped with the large desk, shelves and cabinets that clustered around the room. It was a complete mess. Books of all kinds and hand written work files were strewn across the surfaces, amongst other personal goods left forgotten. In one corner was a dusty chess set, the game at an end with checkmate. A romantic novel lay strewn on the floor, bookmarked three quarters of the way through. Whoever was reading it would probably never learn the ending.

It was in an inexusable state, not that the S.T.A.R.S much cared about it.

Rebecca retrieved some cloth from her medi-pack, and started to scrub the remnants of zombie brains off of her face and vest. The latter was pretty much stained and she could only do so much to clean it up. She tossed the cloth into the nearest bin, just as Richard and Kenneth finishing moving a chest of draws in front of the doorway.

"Just to be sure …" Richard said as he turned to her, running his hand over his light brown crew cut. She blew out a sigh of a relief in response as she propped herself against the desk. She nudged over a small, gold lighter, which she shoved aside on another part of the desk. Kenneth slumped in front of the draws, blowing out a shaky sigh, obviously thankful for the quick save.

"Are you okay?" She asked him, and he slowly nodded, breathless from the previous encounter. She turned her attention to Richard. "And you?"

He looked as battered and bruised as Kenneth was. His clothes were dirtied probably from a scramble in the forest. Notably his orange flak jacket was missing.

He smiled at her assuring. "Don't worry, I'm doing just fine."

"Isn't Forest with you?" She queried.

"He was exploring the top west half of the building. He should be reporting in soon." He checked how much ammo was left in his shotgun. Seven shots precisely. Snapping it shut, he took up a free chair next to the bookcase in the middle of the room. "So, what's been happening with you? I thought we'd lost you out there."

She took the chance to debrief them on her previous situation after they split up to search the forest. Her story depicted a semi-truthful account from her boarding the immobile train, to the ghostly training facility, across to the treatment plant and finally ending up at Marcus's horrific lab. She detailed her encounter with the insane doctor and how she met up with the convict Billy Coen. Of course, she omitted a lot things concerning Mr. Coen - letting him become a background fixture to the terrifying events. She wasn't going to tell her comrades that she had put her faith in him and believed that he wasn't a murderer, letting him walk free after their ordeal. In fact, she told them that after dealing with Marcus, he'd turned into a zombie and she was forced to shoot him.

The whole time, she kept her face clear of emotions, hoping to God that they couldn't see she was lying about the whole Billy situation. To finish off, she informed Richard of the deaths of Edward and Kevin, and mentioned seeing Enrico some time ago, leading her to turn up at the mansion.

After she'd finished speaking, she searched the faces of the pair. Kenneth was quiet and contemplating. She assumed he was still trying to shake off the shock of nearly dying. Richard was absorbing the facts of his comrades' deaths, as well as taking in Rebecca's personal account of the terrors she had faced.

Richard himself had seen some pretty freaky things in the last few hours, but he hadn't quite encountered some of the horrors that the young medic had. Neither men looked fit to argue with her statement, and didn't believe she would ever lie to them, especially under the circumstances. She felt extremely bad not giving them one hundred percent of the truth, but she would have felt a whole lot worse if she saw Billy put to death for something he didn't do. That wasn't justice at all.

Richard at that point started to divulge what happened to him and the others. Their venture had led them on a trail of horror across the forest until they found their way to an underground pass into the water treatment facility. They'd been able to ride an elevator up to the top and exit before they came across too many of the monsters. It was just before they all starting heading to the mansion that they had lost contact with Enrico. They searched the close vicinity for him, but he was nowhere to be found. And then, they'd arrived at the mansion, and had begun a search of what was supposed to be an abandoned house.

At that point, Richard's radio came to life, and a familiar southern-accented voice called clearly through to him.

"Richard, you there? Over."

He yanked the radio from the back of his belt, clicking the receive button. "Hey, Forest. Where are you? Over."

"I'm back in the main hall. Do you know where Sullivan is? Over."

"He's here with me. He had a close call with those zombies." The older man on the floor was getting to his feet now, looking more lively then before. "And he found Rebecca. Over."

There was a pause before a concerned reply came back. "Is she okay? Over."

"She's fine…" He trailed off, realising he hadn't actually asked her if she was okay. He turned, about to ask, but she was grinning with a thumbs up. It made him smile. "Yeah, just fine. Over."

"Good to hear. Has anyone located Edward yet? Over."

Richard's smile disappeared. "Edward has been confirmed dead. And Kevin too. Over."

It took longer for a reply to return. "Shit." His voice was tinted with frustration. "Look, lets regroup. I'll meet you on the upper balcony. Over."

"We'll be there in a few minutes. Over."

"Copy that. Over and out." And the radio fell silent. Richard slipped it back onto his belt, hoisting his gun onto his shoulder.

Kenneth walked up to the desk where Rebecca was perched, looking over some of the strewn work. Flicking through some of the papers, he seemed quite intrigued by his findings.

"Crazy stuff…" He muttered to himself, taking up a whole load of the papers in his hands, filing through them carefully.

Rebecca looked over at him. She took note of the titles atop the files. One appeared to be a toxicology report, another contained notes for a list of chemicals, and the last was something referring to 'V-Act'. She was surprised this stuff hadn't caught her eye before, but then again, she preoccupied cleaning zombie splatter off her face.

"Come on." Richard motioned to another door on the other side of the room. "We should go. We don't want to keep Forest waiting."

"Hey, you clear a path," Kenneth said while half engrossed in a report. "I'm going to check out more of this stuff. I think we might have some hard evidence for the goings on around here."

"We shouldn't split up," Rebecca entreated. "After what just happened, anyone caught on their own could get into serious trouble."

"I won't be sticking around long, I promise," he assured, offering her a small smile. "And besides, we are still officially on a mission. We need to collect evidence that'll explain these so-called 'cannibals'."

"Right, we'll rendezvous with Forest, and then we're coming back for you," Richard said firmly, taking command over his much older comrade. "Rebecca's right, it's too dangerous for us to split up for too long."

"Alright, I'll make a quick sweep of the office while you're gone." He continued to read the material at hand.

Richard put a hand on Rebecca's shoulder. "Come on. Let's go."

As they headed for the other door, Kenneth turned to call over his shoulder. "Stay safe."

Rebecca was the one to reply, eyes filled with worry. "You too."


	3. Chapter 3: Finding Sanctum

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is © to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**Chapter 3: Finding Sanctum**

The hall beyond the study door was a windowless passage filled with murky shadows, only permeated by the meagre glow from a Victorian style lamp sat on a cupboard halfway down. The wallpaper was dirty and dark, to the point that Rebecca couldn't quite distinguish its original colouring. Not that she was too interested in standing about to consider it. Being trapped in a mansion with the undead silently lurking at every corner killed any sort of passion to admire (or blanch) at the interior décor.

Richard had cautiously moved up to the top of the hallway, shotgun pointed ahead of him as he scanned around the only turning to the right. He seemed satisfied enough that nothing was going to come leaping out at them and nodded to the young medic just before continuing on.

Her Beretta was shaking in her tight grip as she hurried her pace to keep up with him. Just as she reached the corner, there was a muffled thump behind her and sharp rattling. She spun, her shaky hands aiming the gun at the second door situated just past the study. It jolted in its frame followed by the distinct sound of hungry moaning on the other side. She hesitated, waiting for the zombie on the other side to bash down the wooden obstacle and come after her. But the situation never occured - the door stood strong, and eventually, it seemed like the flesh eater had given up.

_For now anyway…_

She'd been holding her breath the whole time. It was when she started to feel light-headed that she actually released her breath, it was a trembling one at that; though not quite as bad as her hands were as she pointed her gun to the floor, afraid that she might actually pull the trigger by accident.

"Are you alright?"

Rebecca felt Richard's presence draw near and she slowly looked up at him, not hiding the obvious fact she'd been startled. He understood how she felt, giving her shoulder a supportive squeeze. Some of the tension seemed to ebb away under his fingers, and her shaking came back under control.

"Come on, let's keep moving. We don't want Forest worrying about us." He offered her a smile as he turned to step back the way he'd been headed, cocking his shotgun up towards the next turn.

She couldn't help but mimick his expression. In the short time she'd known him, she'd come to realise that somehow, someway, he always found the ability to smile, even at the worst possible time. And she couldn't help but be thankful for it. His optimistic nature gave her some of her courage back.

The pair bypassed the second half of the corridor - the only notable part being the jade green double doors at the corridor's midpoint. Something worth coming back to at some point, but for now, it was not a great priority.

The last turn of what was a 'U' shaped corridor was under a curtained arch. The large piece of velvet fabric was tied loosely against the wall, forcing them to brush the material aside as they stepped past. On the far left was another door, and down at the very end was the exit out onto the upper balcony of the main hall. There were a couple of a display cabinets adorning each wall - on top were old porcelain dolls and expensive china plates. The beautiful ornaments had sadly now been left to gather dust.

Swiftly, the far door opened, and Bravo team's omni-man Forest Speyer, stepped inside. His two fellow Bravo's pointed their weapons away, both quite relieved to see him again. The stiffness of concern in his features instantly lightened when his eyes rested on the pair.

Rebecca noted his appearance was a little bit of the more harsh side compared to Richard and Kenneth's own conditions. Though his clothing didn't appear quite as marred with dirt and other bodily fluids, what particularly stood out were the two fairly ugly injuries marring the thigh of his left leg and on the front of his right shoulder. Jagged claw marks, caused most probably by the dogs patrolling outside of the mansion.

Rebecca didn't hesitate to hurry to his side, carefully inspecting his injuries with gentle hands. He didn't stop her.

Forest flicked back his long, tangled hair, using the back of his glove to wipe beads of sweat from his temples. He'd had a pretty tough time trying to get around some of the undead. Lucky for him, he was an expert marksman and had been able to take out his enemies quickly or subdue them enough to escape what could have been a grizzly fate. It was with great relief that he finally reunited with his comrades, pushing back the fear that had sat thick in his stomach, hoping that this was a sign of good fortune for them. It especially pleased his uneasy heart that the young rookie had survived through the night.

"These wounds aren't too deep." He looked down as Rebecca spoke up softly. She started to reach around into her side pack for swabs and disinfectant. "They look worse then they actually are." He placed his hand firmly on her arm to cease her actions. She looked up with surprise, thought remained silent.

"Report," he addressed, mainly to Richard.

The younger man spoke up. "We're two men down, and Enrico is missing. I don't know how many of those _things _are in this damned house. I've been through areas that were previously deserted, and the next time, they're suddenly populated by zombies. We're effectively trapped..." He broke off briefly, sighing with heavy exasperation. "I've not been able to locate a means of escape."

Forest simply nodded. "Okay. Well, for now, I've found us a safe room where we can hold up for a while. We can reassess our situation from there." He turned to Rebecca. His expression softened. "It's a medical room. Any injuries any of us have can be treated there." Understanding, she stepped back with a nodded. "Oh, and its good to see you're safe." His smile was enough to make her feel abashed. Timidly, she looked away, a blush creeping into her cheeks.

"We should move, before any more of those monsters show up," Richard suggested. There were nods all round.

"Wait. What about Kenneth?" Rebecca piped up. "Shouldn't we go get him?"

"Leave him for now," Forest cut in. "For the time being we know this route is clear. And I want a fall back plan just in case we have problems with the location of the safe room." He removed his Beretta from its holster and checked the clip. Satisfied, he snapped it back in, looking between the two again. "You made sure the other room was secure?"

Richard nodded and half shrugged. "Pretty secure for now. I wouldn't really say any place in this house is really truly safe." He removed his radio from his belt, hitting a button on the side to activate it. "Hey, Kenneth. Stay put, we're just going to check something out. We may have a safer place to hold up. Over."

"No problem." He received back through a faint haze of static. "Over and out."

"Everyone good for ammo?" Forest asked.

"I have seven in my gun, and about twelve shells in my pack," Richard recalled. "And my Beretta is fully loaded with a spare clip."

Forest turned to the medic. "Rebecca?"

She looked into the magazine of her gun. "Five bullets left in here," she said, snapping the clip back into the chamber. "And two spare mags. My shotgun is full, but no reserves."

"Here," Forest fished a clip out of his pack and handed it to her. "I found a couple at the bottom of a gun cabinet. Take this to be safe. I have a feeling we may be stuck here for a while."

She hesitated before accepting the ammo. "Are you sure?"

He grinned. "Don't worry, I've got good back up." From a shoulder strap, he swung forward his huge reserve weapon. The grenade launcher.

She was surprised she hadn't noticed the bulky weapon sooner. Then again his wounds had been her whole focus at the time.

Richard cracked a smile. "You just couldn't wait to show off your big gun..." The insinuation was wasted on Rebecca, who just smiled obliviously even as Forest gave his friend a 'yeah, whatever' look; after which, all jokes were dismissed and they left the murky corridor, following Forest back the way he'd come towards the supposed safe room he'd found.

* * *

"Bravo team, this is HQ, please respond."

…

"This is Joseph Frost, Alpha Team, calling S.T.A.R.S Bravo Team. Captain Marini, respond please?"

…

"Enrico? Richard? Forest? Anyone! Respond if you can hear this message."

…

It was a message unable to reach the ears of the living. Or even those of the undead.

* * *

The medical room was located on the west side of the building. It was across the balcony, over the top of a dining room and into the western stairwell area. The room was just beneath the stairs itself.

Luckily they hadn't encountered any foes on the way, though the distant sounds of the dead muffled through the walls was enough to keep the trio on their toes.

The room itself was pretty small and smelled faintly of bleach. The walls showed their age with cracks etched into the plaster and wooden boarding. There was a cabinet and a set of standing shelves opposing each other on opposite walls; the cabinet was stocked with rows of pharmaceutical supplies, while the cabinet had a cluster of miscellaneous boxes, all printed with Umbrella's logo. Seeing the familiar company title and symbol made Rebecca uneasy.

On the far wall, was a neatly made bed, though the sheets were off-white with age and somewhat dusty for lack of use. To its left was a desk with a typewriter as its only occupier. She guessed that it was used for typing up the medical reports, as golden age as that was in an era of computer technology.

Rebecca pulled out a chair wedged between the cabinet and the bed and sat down, removing the shotgun from her back, placing it carefully on the bed for the time being. Forest had taken to parking himself atop a large trunk situated in the corner by the door. He too set down his large weapon to the side of him.

Richard looked across the cabinet and its contents. After a while, he gave up trying to work out what did what and moved away. "Some interesting looking concoctions they've got stocked," he said as he sat on the bed across from Rebecca. "Think you'll be able to make use of them?"

She stood again, moving to see what they had. It was a very random selection of medication for various ailments.

"Pyrimethamine, insulin…" She murmured the titles out loud. She half paused on the next title. "Spermicide…"

"Sounds nice…" Forest responded to the latter. Rebecca simply smirked in response.

Richard put his own shotgun down with Rebecca's. "I don't think that'll help a cut."

"Umm… Milk of Magnesia," she continued. "Oh, wait, what's this… ?" She removed a jar from the shelf. " …'Raccoon Herbs'."

"A home grown remedy?" Richard asked.

Rebecca nodded, and flipped the jar around to read the back. "'Heals cuts and bruises while preventing scars. Also can be taken as oral medication for bruising of the ribs and for the prevention of internal infection.'" She set it on the side board. "I know for certain the herbs grown in the area have great medicinal properties. I think I'll definitely be hanging on to this."

"What else they got?" Forest had stood and moved over to the rookie's side.

"Dopamine, Nortriptyline, Flavoxate…" She squinted, some of the bottles had labels where the text was barely readable. She moved onto the last bottle on the shelf, and the smallest. "Antivenin. An Umbrella brand. It can cure most snake poisons."

"I think snake bites are the least of our worries," Richard said, standing again. "It's zombie bites we've got to be worrying about, and I really don't think they've got a medicine for that!"

"What's in the trunk?" Rebecca asked Forest.

"Lets have a look-see." He heaved open the heavy lid, creaking on rusty joints. Peering inside, they came to see that there was nothing really of great interest to them. Stacks of unmarked folders, an empty whiskey bottle, an unknown battery pack and a small hunting knife.

Rebecca looked in, and considered the foremost papers. "Should I check those folders? There could be something in them that could unravel this nightmare…" It was a long shot to consider that the evidence for this disaster would be so easily handed to them, but she could only hope for the situation to get better for them.

"It's worth the look," Forest consented, lifting out a handful of paperwork and passing it across to her.

"Look," Richard put in. "I think I should go back for Ken. I'm getting a bad feeling about leaving him alone for too long." Rebecca's expression switched to a look of concern, obviously in agreement to his statement, but also worried for his own safety.

They were both awaiting on Forest's word on the situation, and he seemed to be inwardly debating letting Richard go off by himself. Though, he didn't like the idea of sending Rebecca back out there nor leaving her behind on her own.

"Right…" He murmured, scratching at his lightly stubbly chin. "Well, the path back seemed to be pretty clear, but you never know with how things have been…" He looked his fellow comrade in the eye, very serious. "Watch your back out there, Aiken. Don't detour. Bring him straight back here, no ifs or buts. Got it?"

"That's my plan," he assured, picking up his weapon and pumping it enthusiastically. He didn't hesitate as he headed for the door.

"Richard?" Rebecca clung tightly to the folders, trying to slow her suddenly racing heart. She was so scared for him. So very scared.

He turned, smiling as he always did. "Yeah?"

"Come back soon, okay?" She found herself whispering, trying not to sound too shaky.

"Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it." He winked, and exited the room, back out into the eerie calm of the hellish mansion.

The sound of the door shutting echoed through her. She dearly hoped and prayed to see him again.

She jumped, almost dropping the files when Forest touched her arm.

"Just you and me for now," He said in an almost light-hearted tone. "I'm sure we can keep ourselves entertained."

Even through the fear, she could still feel embarrassed, and was almost glad for it. Being so serious made her feel all the more uncertain. She blew out a sigh, and smiled the best she could. She offered up the folders.

"A bit of light reading?"

He grinned. "Here's to hoping we find a snippet of Playboy amongst these bad boys."

"But first," she set the folders aside and grabbed his forearm, directing him towards the bed. "I want to treat your wounds."

"I'm up for that, nurse." He semi-flopped onto the white sheets, teasing her with a coy look as he popped open the buttons on his flak vest. "So, how much do you want me to take off?"

She sighed, shaking her head at him. Aside the fun and games, this brief respite hardly soothed her nerves. She was just so desperate to keep her eyes on the door. Just to watch and wait for her friends return.


	4. Chapter 4: Lost and Found

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is © to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**A/N: Many apologies for the shortness of my recent chapters. Don't worry, it should all start to pick up length again soon as I have some pretty interesting things about to happen. Its all planned out to work in creative harmony - heh, some cheese for you there to absorb! Anyway, enough of my mindless babbling - lets get on with the story! Hope you guys enjoy!**

**Chapter 4: Lost and Found**

The room was quiet for some time. Once she'd completed her duties of cleaning up Forest's wounds, Rebecca had simply sat back and sorted out her medical pack, reorganising each section to pass the time. It was a generally unnecessary task, but it kept her busy. Both hands and mind.

Her companion was sat, one leg up on the bed frame, lounging and taking in as much rest as he could. He half watched her as his eyes flicked back and forth between the door as they waited for Richard and Kenneth to return.

Rebecca sighed dolefully. Her pack was arranged as neatly as she could possibly get it, and she readjusted it back on her belt, left to try and occupy her thoughts with anything but the current events. But when she ended up thinking of home, it made her sick with grief. The whole hope of getting out of this mess was too far out of reach. The thought of never seeing her family again was starting to weigh heavy on her, and she simply had to go back to her previous train of thought, so she wouldn't start crying. But even those thoughts didn't make her feel any better either. Worrying over Richard and Kenneth burned horribly in the pit of her stomach.

"What a mess," she heard Forest mutter, and cast a solemn glance his way. "It couldn't get any worse."

"Famous last words," she said with some humour, but even that came out dry and tasteless. She went to scratching at some dry skin on her elbow to distract herself from her embarrassment. _So clever... _She inwardly chided.

Forest made a small sound of agreement, and pushed himself back up, sitting forward. "Stupid question, but you wouldn't happen to have a smoke on you?" She shook her head. He sighed, "I didn't think so."

After which, all conversation went flat, leaving an uneasy silence between them. It seemed all banter and idle chit chat had been wasted in the first ten minutes of them being alone together. Rebecca was just not good at keeping a conversation going, and definitely couldn't think of anything useful, or even remotely helpful to say during such a tedious time. But if she didn't break the silence, she'd go nuts.

"Uh…" She began to voice, and realised her mind had gone completely blank. Forest was looking at her expectantly, and she suddenly found she needed to say something with the fear of looking stupid. It was when her jade eyes befell his shoulder that she found something to fill the void. "… That's a nice, um, tattoo…"

_Wow, what a retarded thing to say… _She mentally slapped herself.

He smiled, lifting his arm to gaze over the picture there. The winged sword entailed by a ribbon. "I had it done when I was eighteen - when I first went into the forces. Me and a few of the other new boys decided to make it our official induction. We all kinda had the same theme."

"I want a tattoo," she admitted. "I saw this cute purple butterfly in a parlour window back home, but I've always been too chicken to go through with it."

"You should make it a goal to get that tattoo the minute you get out of here," he said, patting his shoulder. "Hell, if we both get out, I'll go with you. I'll pin you down if I have to, just to make sure you go through with it. Besides, I've always wanted to have a tiger done on my back."

"A big one?" He nodded. "Wow! I would like to see that."

Minutes seemed to drag with a numbing sense of foreboding. Neither Richard or Kenneth were yet to reappear. Forest stood, showing obvious agitation. "What the hell is taking them so long? Running back and forth from here would NOT take over ten minutes. Something must have happened."

On the edge of anxiety, Rebecca clasped her shaking hands nervously together, listening to the sound of her heart echoing furiously in her ears. She tensely waited as Forest tried to call both Richard and Kenneth over the radio, but after a few minutes, he gave up without reaching either of them.

Things were looking grim.

"What should we do?" She asked, awaiting his command. It was at times like these she wished the Captain was there.

Forest went and retrieved the grenade launcher, slinging it purposefully onto his left shoulder. He turned to her with a look of resolve. "Right, you stay here. Lock the door. I'll give you a call on the radio to tell you what's going on. I'll be back as soon as I can, and hopefully, the guys will be with me."

She didn't argue, and watched fearfully as he left the room, rushing afterwards so she could lock the door as requested. Tiredly, she went to sit down on the bed.

She flipped her left wrist over to check the time. Nearly midday. Where had the time gone?

Allowing herself the briefest time to relax, she leant back against the wall, letting her eyes fall shut, if only for a moment. All she needed for a little rest. She needed every ounce of energy to could muster to keep herself going. Her adrenaline on the side would do its duty to keep her on her feet.

And what was suppose to be a little rest ended up as over half an hour of dozing. As her head lolled forward, she snapped it back up, blinking groggily as she checked her watch. Twenty five to one.

She jumped to her feet in a panic. She was still very much alone without a peep from her fellow Bravos. She immediately yanked her radio from her belt, grabbing her shotgun from its resting place.

"Forest, this is Rebecca, can you hear me. Over?"

There was no response.

She repeated her call, again and again, but still nothing but an echo of eerie static. She tried Richard, and then Kenneth, all with the same results. What could have happened to them?

_Please be alright,_ she prayed, unlocking the door. With concern driving her, she left the safety of the medical room.

The minute she stepped out, she was frozen in her step at the sight of a lone zombie stood swaying lazily at the bottom of the staircase. Her involuntary gasp turned its dead-eyed attention to her and the shambling corpse began to drag itself in her direction. One of its legs was broken below the knee, the bone protruding through its lifeless flesh. The maggots crawling over the wound caused an involentary gag.

But she wouldn't let it bother her. Backing away, Rebecca lifted the shotgun ahead of her, taking aim at its head. "GET BACK!" She yelled, not even hesitating to pull the trigger. An almightily bang rang in her ears - and she watched as the man's head exploded into a thousand grisly pieces.

Before she even realised what she was doing, she was running down a new stretch of corridor, putting some distance between herself and the decapitated body. The sounds of distant moans through the ceiling above fuelled her to go faster, to pump her legs harder. She skidded around a corner, nearly colliding side on with a corner cabinet. She ran a few more steps before tripping and falling unceremoniously on her face.

There was definitely going to be a bruise.

It took all her strength to collect herself once more, and she slowly, and more calmly, raised herself from the ground.

_Get a grip! _She inwardly shouted at herself.

She regarded the door before her, uncertain whether she should press on alone into unknown territory.

_No, I need to go back. I have to find out where the others went._

She turned, in time to watch the door to the side of her burst open and a zombie lurch out. Her scream pierced the corridor with sharp clarity, as the dead man - a disgusting, skeletal creature - grabbed her. She looked up into the bloodied, rotting face before her with sheer terror as it quickly loomed over her. The bones glistening through strings of raw flesh was more then horrific. She couldn't even describe her feelings for seeing such a sight, and she had to fight hard to keep back the bile rising in her throat. Its jaws opened hungrily as it pressed its full weight down on her…

… But it just couldn't reach. It couldn't make those last few inches. The only thing keeping it from digging its crooked teeth into her neck was the shotgun jammed up into its chest.

She pushed as hard as she could, recoiling at the putrid breath drifting down onto her face. Wheezing, she twisted and turned in the creature's grip, but its bony fingers dug in tighter, intent on feasting upon her flesh. She tried aiming the shotgun, but moving the weapon only drew the zombie down closer.

It was her own clumsy footwork that saved her. She ended up tripping over a crack in the floor, the motion throwing her forward, straight into the brittle body of the aging corpse. It went backwards, ramming hard against the window ledge. A sickening crack emitted from the zombie as its spine snapped in two, and the creature fell. Its flailing arm slapped Rebecca across the face and sent her crashing backwards. The shotgun slammed against the corner of the doorframe and fell from her grip. She hit the wall, falling to her knees, winded.

Catching a desperate breath, she looked over at the zombie now pitifully pulling itself along by its skinny fingers, struggling with the dead weight of its bottom half. She immediately reached for the shotgun, taking aim, and stopped. She realised with the utmost horror that the barrel was bent twenty degrees upward.

It was totally useless now.

The zombie's hand grabbed her boot and she yelped. She turned the weapon around in her hand, pointing the butt of the weapon at the head of the dead man. She raised the broken weapon and with all her strength, rammed the butt downwards onto its weak skull. It groaned dryly as the top of its cranium caved in. It flopped down, very much dead this time.

Rebecca leaned backwards, using the wall for support, trying not to look at the corpse at her feet. She glanced at the shotgun in her hand, taking a shaky sigh as she turned to glimpse into the small room in which the zombie had lurched from.

A dusty storage closet. Nobody else was inside - dead or otherwise. She decided to step inside.

She discarded the shotgun on a glass cabinet to the left of the door, and went about exploring the cramped room. There were stacks of old furniture piled up, some broken, and some simply abandoned to the tests of time. An old, lopsided table was half obscuring what looked liked a fuel tank. On further inspection, she found the side marked with green text reading 'Kerosene'.

In the far corner was a stained, hickory desk. Inside the only draw was two clips or 9mm parabellum, which she was happy to take. After further exploration, she established there was nothing else worth taking. Putting away her newly found ammo, she removed her Beretta M92FS from its holster and backtracked towards the stairs. Heading up them, she saw another zombie, but it was at the far end of another hall with its back to her. Deciding not to waste ammo, she moved as quietly as she could around the top banister and exited out the far door to the upper dining room.

Just as she shut the door, the radio on her belt buzzed, crackling with the sound of static and someone's voice. She couldn't recognise whose it was, even as she pulled the radio up to her ear to listen closer. It sounded, vaguely, like Richard. The voice soon faded off.

"Richard? Are you there?" She hollered into the receiver. There was nothing but dangerous silence.

She chewed her lip._ Richard, where are you?_

Rebecca pulled out her other radio to try with that instead. When she brought the item to hand, she was left dumbfound. The whole back casing was bent inwards and parts of the wires were protruding, disconnected. Turning it over back and forth, she was left groaning when she quietly considered that in her tussle, she'd hit the wall pretty hard, pack first. She put it back for now, hoping Richard could do something, if anything, with it. That is, if she found him alive.

She hurried hastily back into the main hall. It was just as quiet as before. All placid and regal. Much the deceptive beauty. And still, very much empty. She went back to the door on the opposite side of the upper balcony, to re-enter the 'U' hall.

What she saw, was awe astounding.

Corpses. A gruesome display of dismembered body parts littering her path. The smell was rancid, like rotten fruit with a side serving of spoilt milk. She gagged, quickly bringing her hand to her mouth and nose so she wouldn't inhale the sour smell of death. Her gun was firmly raised up as she slowly made her way through the bloody battlefield.

At first she'd had a horrible feeling that the body parts were those of her comrades, but on closer inspection, she discovered the limbs were in a very late stage of decay. And the fact they had been torn apart so violently was not a simple attack from a zombie. A weapon had been used.

It had been one hell of a fight, that was for sure. The zombies were blown to smithereens, charred like slabs of burnt meat, only posing now as mere obstacles as Rebecca carefully made her way through. The carpet squelched under the heels of her boots. That was enough to make her curse and she did her best to try and not to step on any putrid chunks of roasted zombie, fearing she might throw up on herself.

She stepped around the curtained corner and found near enough the same thing. Bits of zombies here and there like a bad mosaic. The large jade doors she'd noted previously, were open, giving Rebecca a good idea where the multitude of zombies had all appeared from.

In the far corner of the corridor, she noticed Forest, slumped against the wall. He wasn't moving.

"FOREST!" She unthinkingly kicked decomposing limbs out of her path as she ran over to her fallen comrade. His arms were covered in thin, bloodied scratches, and an ugly bruise was starting to form on his right shoulder. His clothes were stained with blood - though, with no other injuries to count for the amount of it, she assumed he'd received splash back when he'd fought against the zombies. Her fingers came to rest nervously at the pulse point on his neck. Thankfully, there was a strong beat resting beneath her touch.

Relieved, she lifted his head, brushing long strands of hair away from his face. She moved him to rest against herself, putting her gun away momentarily to reach into her pack for some smelling salts.

"Come on, Forest, wake up," she murmured, wafting the now retrieved salts under his nose. It took a moment before he started to come around. "Thank god…"

His eyes slowly opened, rolling up to meet hers. She almost felt like crying, squeezing him in a gentle hug. His hand came to rest on her shoulder. "Rebecca…" His voice was dazed.

"Don't worry. I'm here now," she soothed.

His eyes wandered as he forced himself to sit up in her grasp. He regarded the carnage and sighed, a sound full of relief.

"I'm still alive then," he remarked.

"What happened?"

He winced, touching the back of his head. "I was ambushed. They came out of the middle room." He was referring to the one with the green double doors, like she'd thought. "I fought them off. The last thing I remember was tripping as I fired. I must have hit my head. It all went black after that." He kick at the bloodied mess at his feet. "It was a lucky shot. I must have got them all, otherwise, well, I wouldn't be here to tell the tale."

Carefully, she helped him get back to his feet. The grenade launcher had fallen off to one side, and she went to retrieve it for him. He gratefully took it back.

"What about Richard and Kenneth?" She asked.

"I didn't make it that far. But if they'd been in the study, they'd have heard me fighting these things…"

She frowned, turning towards the study. Wasting little time, she rushed back to the room where Kenneth was supposed to be. Flinging open the door, she was met with only silence. The room was just how it was when she left.

Though with one difference. Neither Kenneth or Richard were inside.


	5. Chapter 5: Lack of Sanity

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is © to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**A/N: I did have trouble writing this chapter, so that's one of the reasons it took so long to put up. I wasn't too happy with some of my ideas, but I managed to fix it so it worked all round. Also, I was away for a short period of time, which stopped me from writing. Well, anyway, I'm sorry this chapter is rather short, but I found that I couldn't add too much more to it. Its hard to keep from trying to rush to get to the parts I really want to do, but I held back and focused on what was needed. I hope you still enjoy!**

**Chapter 5: Lack of Sanity**

Rebecca felt sick.

Her head was beginning to pound with the onset of a headache. Worry swelled inside her chest almost like sand filling up in her lungs, and for a moment she thought she might even stop breathing. Her legs were close to giving up beneath her, and she was forced to lean on the desk to keep herself upright.

_Where are you? Where did you go? Why didn't you call for help? _Her mind was ringing with many questions, but frustratingly she couldn't work out the answers. For the life of her she couldn't make sense of it.

Her heart was thumping too fast to count the beats. She shakily lifted a hand to cup against her tired face, rubbing away the sweat budding on her pale brow. Behind her she heard Forest slowly amble into the room, shutting the door behind himself - not just for safety, but to block out the stench of the rotting body parts in the hall.

"I don't believe this," she heard him mumble. Her sentiments exactly.

Rebecca swallowed, the dryness at the back of her throat mimicking gritty sandpaper. She scowled, trying to think through the cobwebs fogging her tired mind.

There was no struggle. No blood to be seen, and the cabinet that had been used as a blockade had been simply moved aside. Kenneth and Richard had left the room of their own free will. But why would they do that? Both knew what the plan of action was. Had both lost all rational thinking?

She remembered that static-filled message from earlier, the one that sounded like Richard.

_Oh God, what if that was a call for help!? _She felt faint, wondering if those words buzzing in her radio had been his last.

"Rebecca?" Forest approached her carefully, one hand pressed to the back of his aching head. "What is it?" She gazed it him through shock-blurred eyes, his words not quite registering with her brain. Concerned, he led her to a seat to sit down, afraid she might collapse on him. "Speak to me, Rebecca."

"I got a message earlier," she relayed carefully, shuddering as a cold sweat began to trickle down her spine. "I think it was from Richard. I don't know, but, he might have been in trouble. I couldn't quite understand what he was saying."

Forest swore under his breath, nursing his head tenderly as he contemplated their next move. Rebecca remained silent, waiting-

- Then, there was a loud bang from below, followed by a sound much like a door being kicked open.

The gunshot had Rebecca up on her feet abruptly, the chair beneath her toppling over as she stumbled slightly against it. The pair exchanged a glance before rushing to the exit, guns at the ready.

Flinging the study's door open, they stepped out into the hall above the eastern staircase, hearing the sharp sounds of gunfire from down below. They had to step over a freshly slain zombie, festering in a large pool of its own gooey blood, as they moved over to the banister to look down at the action. There was a flash of green and yellow rushing around the corner as a zombie collapsed not far from the foot of the stairs.

"Kenneth!" Rebecca cried, but a door slamming said she wasn't heard. More distant gun shots only indicated he was running back directly into trouble.

Then, nothing. No further sounds.

"Shit! Come on!" Forest was ran down the stairs, vaulting over the bottom banister when he was halfway down.

Rebecca barely took a step before she was jolted by the sound of a door opening to the far right of her. She made a shocked cry, before pausing, breathing out a sudden sigh of relief.

It was Richard.

"Rebecca!"

She could have cried with joy but kept her restraint. "You're okay!"

"What's going on?" He pumped his shotgun as he joined her.

"It's Kenneth. He's in trouble!"

Forest was at the bottom of the stairs, looking up furiously at the other man. "Where the fuck did you get to!?"

"Looking for Kenneth." Both younger Bravo's rushed down the stairs.

"Come on! We'll sort this out later." The three followed the route Kenneth had taken. This put them back in dangerous territory, as Rebecca knew from her run beforehand.

Exiting into the outer hall, they found the previous two zombies in a more crippled state then before. One was trying to drag itself along the floor, for the fact that one of its brittle legs had been completely severed. The other was stumbling around, its head barely connected to its shoulders. Richard blew away the last strands of meat connecting the two, letting the head roll away across the stained floor.

Forest pulled out his Beretta and pumped two bullets into the brain of the other. It gurgled mournfully as it died face down in its own blood.

There was no sign of Kenneth in the hallway.

Forest snapped around, infuriated. Richard was going to take the brunt of it.

"What the hell is going on?" He raged. "It was a simple task! A SIMPLE TASK! I was nearly zombie chow chasing after your ass!"

Richard held up his hands. "Whoa! He was gone when I got there! I thought I heard him going into one of the rooms across the hall, but it was just one of those dead guys." He dug out a lot of papers from his pack, presenting them to the pair. "I found some interesting things while I was looking for him."

Rebecca took some pieces of paper, what looked to have been torn from a diary. The corners were stained with blood.

"They were under a bed. Thought you'd like to take a look." She just nodded slightly at his words, flipping through.

Forest sighed heavily, still pretty angry. "He was downstairs! In the room next to the stairwell." He took a deep breath, but his anger didn't fade. "This crap," he motioned to the papers, "was not worth the time! Kenneth could have been dying while you were fishing through this. Is paper worth more then a life?!"

"Come on," Rebecca interjected soothingly, putting herself between the two men. "Lets not fight. Please, not while we're stuck here like this. We should just look for Kenneth. And not forgetting the Captain, too!"

The three moved to the unexplored opposite end of the corridor. There was a door in the top left-hand corner and another down a small narrow passage to the right. Light flooded in through the glass and bars adorned in it. A way outside, it seemed.

"I'll go check out there," Richard said, motioning to the right-hand door. It seemed just for a moment he felt safer being away from Forest, who still seemed to be inwardly seething even though his face was blank.

"Right," Forest agreed. "Rebecca and I will check this room. Meet back here in five if we don't find him. No later."

"Okay."

Forest and Rebecca turned to enter the room cautiously. The latter waited in the doorway, watching Richard as he went down towards the back door. Before exiting, he turned back, noticing her still there and gave her the thumbs up. And then he was gone.

She closed the door behind her.

_CAW!!_

She jumped, looking overhead at a bar lining around the top of the room. Perched along it was a multitude of crows. Their beady eyes locked onto the pair intently, claws clicking as they inches sideways along the metal bar. Forest didn't seem in the least bothered by them as he stepped further into the small room.

It was a gallery. In the very middle of the room was a large mount of stain glass pictures, each with its own unique depiction of a person with specific items highlighted in different colours. The panes of glass themselves were lit up with different coloured lights shining down from spotlights from the upper bar.

Rebecca somewhat admired the stained glass artwork, though it was hard to really apprechiate the art with a chorus of cawing birds at her back picking intentionally at her nerves. With her hearing pricked up listening to the sound of the birds voicing their annoyance at their presence, she suddenly heard something she hadn't noticed before. The distant sound of heavy breathing.

A shadow caught moving on the other side of the glass had already alerted Forest to potential danger. He motioned for her to keep quiet as he stealthy followed the slowly moving shadow, quickly moving himself to the corner where the panels of glass ended.

Rebecca pushed the diary pages between her belt and combats as she offered Forest rear security, aiming the gun at the shadow behind the glass. She held her breath, focusing hard on her aim. There was no second chances in this job. If she couldn't support him, one or the other would die.

The shadow moved forward sharply, and Forest quickly intercepted.

The birds squawked loudly, stirred by two loud shouts of surprise. Their wings flapped with alarm, though none attempted to leave their perch.

Rebecca quickly moved around to see whom Forest had come face to face with.

Locked briefly with guns pointed at each others heads, Forest and Kenneth were caught in a moment of shock and intense focus. It took a few seconds longer before both relaxed, weapons lowering as they sighed with great relief.

"Man, you scared me!" Kenneth exclaimed. "Don't go creeping around like that!"

Forest's relief was quickly replaced with anger. "Why the hell did you leave the study? Were you trying to get yourself killed?!"

"Listen, you're not going to believe this. I thought heard a woman's voice."

"A woman?" Rebecca questioned. She put her gun away momentarily.

"Yeah. A middle-aged woman, maybe. She sounded like she was in pain." He wiped the sweat from his brow. "Look, I don't know what I was thinking, but when I heard her cry I thought there might be other people trapped here, desperately needing our help. I wasn't thinking about myself, and well, I kind of rushed into the thick of things and ran out of ammo. I took refuge in that room under the stairs. I was stuck there for a while. I didn't want to risk just running for it. Though, strangely I did happen to find some bullets in a crate in there. So, I ran and shot my way to here… And that's about it."

Forest said nothing straight away. He was contemplating his companions words, trying to find the logic in them. It was crazy of him to even attempted a rescue on his own, that is if he'd actually heard a woman at all. From their brief scan, there was nobody else trapped here. Just them and the zombies.

"I'm sorry, guys," the older man apologised. "I messed up."

Forest sighed. At least he knew his actions were wrong. He glanced at Rebecca, who didn't show a single ounce of anger even for a second. She probably thought that he'd been heroic to put his life at risk. Quietly allowed his anger to seep away, simply leaving him looking tired.

"I understand," Rebecca spoke up, "that you wanted to help someone in trouble, but you have to consider the situation you're in. What good would you be to anyone if you just ran headlong into trouble and got yourself killed?" Forest nodded quietly at her side, proud of her level-headedness.

Kenneth chuckled, shaking his head. "Wow… Me being lectured by the rookie…" He patted her shoulder. "You know, this house has really got to me. I'm glad at least one of us has still has their head firmly screwed to their shoulders."

Forest heaved a sigh, very much calm now. "Look. Lets play it safe from now on. Don't do anything without informing the rest of the team."

"I tried to contact you guys," Kenneth reported. "But my radio is on the blink. I don't know why, it was working before…"

The Southern-born sniper punched the frame of the glass mount. "This whole situation is fucked up. First the helicopter malfunctions, now we're trapped in this nightmare! And why the hell would there be ammo all over the place?." Forest scowled hard. "This feels like a set up."

Rebecca's eyes widened. "A set up? But who…"

"God only knows…"

_Umbrella, this is there place, _she considered, but did not voice this. She couldn't be wholly sure, but she did have a sneaking suspicion. But why them? What had S.T.A.R.S done to deserve such torture?

Forest grabbed his radio, hitting the receiver. "Richard, you there?"

It took a few seconds before a static-cased response came through. "Yeah, I'm here. I haven't found him. Over."

"No, be we have. So, get your ass back inside. Over."

He paused briefly, then came back, sounding quite excited. "I thought you might be interested to know, I found a back door. There could be a vehicle storage area out here. Over."

Forest was pleased by the discovery. "Is it open? Over."

"Just let me-" There was a break in conversation. Somewhere in the background, there was the faint sound of something brushing against a bush. "-HOLY SHIT-" And the radio went dead.

"Richard?!" Forest didn't waste a second, ramming his radio back onto his belt as he ran for the door. "COME ON! LET'S MOVE! NOW!"


	6. Chapter 6: Helping Hand

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is © to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**A/N: The last chapter wasn't all that exciting, but it was a needed filler to help carry events along. You have to get the less fun stuff out the way to get to the best bits. Everything has its purpose in the story and no matter if its tough to flesh out, I have to do my best to get it right. I've got it all planned out, I promise there will be plenty of action for you to enjoy, it just takes me a while to write those kind of scenes. Anyway, this chapter should be more engaging. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 6: Helping Hand**

She didn't think she had anymore adrenaline left in her body. But the minute she got scared, Rebecca went into overdrive. However much her body screamed for her to stop, she ran, and ran hard. Pushed forward with every ounce of strength despite the tiredness. No matter how she felt at that exact second, her mind was completely on Richard.

He was in trouble, and she'd be damned if she'd let him die.

With her gun poised in her hands, Rebecca let Forest and Kenneth with their greater speed take the front as they bolted from the gallery, down that small side corridor, and out the back gate into the blazing sunshine of an outer patio walkway.

The narrow stone-cast footpath was alive with shadows jittering as the wind brushed through stems of ivy matted around a set of ornate pillars on the left hand wall. Beyond that, in the overgrowth of grass and trees was the distinct signs of movement. The expanse of green was twitching with life. Or undead, to be more specific.

Hidden foes were ready and waiting to pounce.

But that wasn't their focus for now, it was Richard, not too far up the path, wrestling with one of the undead canines who'd been patrolling the inner gardens. His weapon was jammed tightly against the beast as it clawed the air, slathering all over him hungrily. The pelt of the beast was a decaying clump of fur and muscle, slopped over with layers and layers of its own sopping blood.

"Richard!" Rebecca cried out without thinking. His eyes went past the dog to hers. They were frightened.

Forest immediately acted, and rushed into the skirmish, launching a series of furious kicks into the ichorous side the creature until it fell off of his companion. Richard side rolled quickly, getting to his feet, just as the dog turned around -

- And went straight for Forest, clamping its torn jaws onto his right leg.

"ARGH! YOU BASTARD!" It pulled and tore at his flesh, trying to shake its head to rip a piece free.

Rebecca quickly took aim, but hesitated to pull the trigger. Forest could easily get in the way of her shot.

Kenneth had thrown all his bravery into grabbing the decomposing creature from behind, trying to yank it off, but to no avail. It wasn't going to let go without a fight. And then came Richard, using his shotgun as a club and beating its exposed spinal cord as hard as he could.

Forest's pained expression turned to the rookie, just as he noticed something she didn't.

"REBECCA! BEHIND YOU!"

She turned sharply, just in time to intercept a dog leaping directly onto her chest, throwing her backwards to the hard ground. Like she'd done before, she put her arms under its chest and neck to keep it from going for her face, but she had been winded quite badly from her fall and her strength waned fast.

The dog's shabby jaws were nearly reaching their target.

She pushed with all her might, squirmy desperately beneath the animal, but she just couldn't get away. A scream ripped from her lungs desperately, as it pushed forward, lunging for her face. The foul stench of its breath painted a very horrible picture in her mind of her bloody, horrific death…

… And there was Kenneth, slamming his gun into the side of the dog's head with tremendous force. It had been a breath away from ripping a huge portion out of her cheek.

Rebecca scrambled out of the way as Kenneth fired on the beast, knocking it head over heels.

Behind them, the heavy crack of bone signalled the downfall of the dog attacking Forest, and it let go of him. Hastily, the injured man aimed his Beretta at the fading creature and expertly blasted a single bullet into its withering brain. After which, he fell back against the wall, the pain overcoming him. He sunk to the ground trying to fight off a state of shock.

"Hold on," he heard Richard say. The injured man sucked in a deep breath, counting to ten as he grabbed his wounded leg. The blood was soaking through the leg of his combats, and starting to drip a pool beneath him.

The other dog was getting back up, just as Kenneth had to reload his last clip. Rebecca got back to her feet, just as the dog was crouching, ready to pounce at her. Before she could even aim, it leapt. But Richard already had her covered with a shotgun blast, decapitating it.

It's body slammed into her, knocking her over. The carcass rolled off to the side and she lay there dazed and sickened - she wanted to throw up so badly.

"Rebecca, are you alright?" Kenneth was lifting her up before she knew what was going on. Her head swam wildly and she pushed away from quickly, stumbling to lean over the side of one of the arches where she vomited into the grass. With little food inside her, it was nothing but water. Tears filled her green eyes.

"I don't know how much more I can take," she whispered, wiping the corners of her mouth.

Richard was there, taking her suddenly by the arm. "Come on, we don't know how many more of them there are!"

"The back door!" Forest sharply called, trying to pick himself up. "What about this back door!?"

"Just around the corner." He didn't let Rebecca go the whole time, pulling her half against him protectively as he moved, shotgun ahead of him.

A wrought-iron door lay at the end of the path, solidly bolted into the stone.

Richard tried the handle. It was locked up tight. A few senseless pushes proved that.

As he cursed profusely, Rebecca came to notice an indentation on a stone plaque jutting out from the left side wall. The cut indicated some sort of emblem was suppose to fit in place. It occured to her with a brief glance at the iron obstacle that there was no keyhole to indicate a normal key unlocked it. Looking back and forth between the stone indent and the door, she had a sneaking suspicion that the two were interlinked. After all the trouble she had to go through that past night finding odd keys and such for doors, the idea seemed to make perfect sense.

Kenneth easily supported Forest's weight against him as they came to join the pair. Richard turned, looking irritated, and shook his head.

"She'd not going to open short of a battering ram."

Forest groaned through gritted teeth. Just one more problem dropping onto the big ass pile they'd accumilated. "Fuck!" He eventually shouted, the pain and aggravation being too much to cope with.

"Let's just go back inside," Kenneth said, on edge as he looked about them. "There's more of those things out there and I sure as hell don't want to meet anymore of their buddies!"

"Rebecca, take Forest's other side. I'll cover us!" Richard rested the barrel of his weapon on his left arm for a better, steady aim, giving a nod to the young woman as she rushed to grab hold of Forest, who was half slumping where he stood despite the aid.

"I left the herbs in the medical room, lets go back there so I can treat him," she said. They all agreed to the plan and headed back to the gate.

The three went in first, with Richard following behind. Just as they shut the door, a dog leapt at it, barking and clawing at glass and bars. Luckily for them, it couldn't get through.

"Shit," Richard breathed, half startled as they retreated from the doorway and back the way they'd come.

"Fuck, it just had to be me…" Rebecca looked up at Forest mumbling softly to himself. His face had paled and was trickling with small beads of sweat. She couldn't imagine the pain he must've been going through.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, catching his attention. "I should've acted faster."

"I'll take my bites over bullets any day of the week," he said light-heartedly. There was no way he could blame her for not firing. Not having the best aim, she could have risked his life. The arm he had slung over her shoulders squeezed her tighter, as did his hand resting on her elbow.

She smiled in response and leaned closer to him, allowing him to support her in his own way as she and Kenneth guided him back across the house to the medical room. Her heart was weak with fear, and she trembled with each step, but it was the bravery still in her injured comrade's eyes that gave her strength.

Even though he was in agony, he pushed on. Fought to live.

She was going to do the same.

Once they'd returned to the medical room, Kenneth and Rebecca helped Forest sit on the bed as Richard heaved the trunk in front of the door. It was an extra precaution he felt they needed. Who knew what could suddenly come jumping out?

Kenneth hadn't seen the room before and took the time to check out the supplies in stock, while Rebecca set to work in patching up Forest again for the second time. As she rolled up the soaked leg of his combats, she grimaced at the savage wound. The bite mark was ragged. Each tooth had torn down a good portion of the leg. The holes left behind gaped bloody and deep. She couldn't tell just from looking if there was any muscle damage, but couldn't rule out the possibility. Luckily, the bone in his leg wasn't broken, nor had been exposed.

_At least that's one small miracle…_

"What can you do for me?" Forest asked, taking in his own wound with restrained horror.

"You'll definitely need stitches, but I don't have the equipment with me to do that for you. I can clean and bandage the wound, but I have a feeling you may need further treatment to find out how extensive the damage is to your leg."

He nodded his understanding, looking away. "Do your best, Rebecca."

Richard obtained Kenneth's radio from him, setting it down on top of the trunk. He removed his own from his belt and set it aside it. "I want to check out everyone's radios. For some reason they're acting up and I sure as hell want to know why."

"Here." Rebecca took her radio from her belt and handed it over to him. "Oh, and this was Edward's." She took the broken radio out and passed it over too. "I fell on it earlier this afternoon. I was hoping you could do something to fix it."

He smiled. "I'll see what I can do."

Forest's radio was the last to be passed over as Richard then mustered together a tiny set of tools from his side pack and set about taking the backs off the radios to evaluate their conditions. Nobody disturbed his intense concentration.

Rebecca wiped the blood from Forest's leg before pressing fresh gauze over the nasty wound, putting pressure on to stop the bleeding. On request, Kenneth passed over the jar of crushed herbs.

"This will sting…" And she pressed a handful over his open wounds. He hissed through gritted teeth, punching the edge of the bed. There were no rational words for the pain he felt.

"Fuck…"

"Sorry."

Forest smiled weakly. "It's not your fault…"

She padded and bandaged up the wound as best she could, and asked him to orally take some of the herbs to help the healing process. He did so, but not without a look of disgust as he swallowed the bitter mixture. Using what was left of a squirt bottle of saline solution in her pack, she thoroughly cleaned the blood off her hands.

She had a horrible feeling, though didn't want to completely believe it. Of course, the scenario of viral infection was hard to ignore and she had to consider that Forest could now be carrying the same 'disease' from the dog bite. With knowing very little about the contamination factor of the virus, she didn't want to risk not thoroughly protecting herself from its effects and removed every speck of his blood that she could.

After which, she bid Forest to lay down for a while to regain his strength. He didn't argue. Moments later, he had fallen asleep.

For a while, the room was quiet, only with the sounds of Richard tinkering and mumbling quietly to himself about the different components. Kenneth had stopped cataloguing the different medicines on show and had found the files Rebecca had been handling earlier and was sat reading through them with obvious intrigue. Forest slept soundlessly, a little colour returning to his cheeks. Rebecca brushed aside strands of hair clinging to the sweat on his cheeks before turning to dig out the diary extracts from earlier. She now had the time to read the contents to herself.

It was all in bits and pieces. Some parts were too faded to read and others were spotted out by blood marks. Whatever remained readable was listed under the word, 'June'.

_This wasn't suppose to happened. How did the virus leak out? I still don't understand it! Nobody could have been that stupid! And everything was going so well…_

_Everyone is infected now. The virus is supposed to be only used in controlled settings. It's a major disaster!_

_The whole area is full of monsters. I thought we'd be able to keep them out of the house, but some of the infected escaped here unknowing of the danger they were bringing. I've been locked in this bedroom for over a week now. Or maybe more? Safe only until they get me._

_I have to escape, but the area is crawling with those things… All I have is a handgun I found in McKinley's desk. What the hell was he doing with a gun anyway?_

_Behind the helipad is an old garage. They keep some vans in there. But it will be sealed, I know it. Ever since May they've keeping us locked up here. But I have to get out. I want to see my wife again!_

_The back door is sealed. Someone has hidden the stone object. If I try and go around through the grass, those dogs will get me! I have one bullet left. I will find a safe place to end it all. At least when I am dead, I will not be eaten by those bastards…_

Rebecca re-read the small parts over and over.

_Helipad… Stone object… _She felt a new wave of hope and was quick to show this to Richard and Kenneth.

"A stone object? That's the key to getting out back?" Richard mulled aloud.

She nodded. "There was an indentation beside the door. The stone object must fit there to unlock it."

"Right," Kenneth said as he stood, "I think I'll try and find this stone object. I want to get out of this death trap as fast as I can." He checked his gun for a bullet count. "We haven't scanned further into the west halls. I think I'll cover that area." He snapped the magazine back inside.

"Is that such a good idea?" Rebecca questioned, thinking about what happened earlier.

"I'll be more careful, I promise," he assured her, thought she didn't look completely convinced. He turned to Richard. "How's the radios?"

The younger man handed his back to him. "I really don't know why they're acting up. Shoddy transistors? Faulty wires maybe? They seem fine to me. Aside from Edward's radio, the others are pretty much as they should be. I'll try and fix his while you're out looking."

"Maybe I should cover some ground too," Rebecca said. "I'll take the upper west area."

"Not on your own, young lady." She turned to Forest. His eyes were still closed, though he was obviously awake.

"I'll be fine. I'll run at the first sign of trouble! I won't do anything stupid."

His eyes opened, staring up at her dubiously. Carefully, he propped himself up, looking for where his weapons were placed. The grenade launcher was propped next to the bed, and his Beretta was sat on the side of the cupboard.

"If you're thinking about going out there, then I'm going with you." He reached out and holstered his Beretta.

"You're in no fit state!" She protested, but he waved her off as he carefully got to his feet. His expression spoke volumes at how uncomfortable it was to walk on that leg.

"Do you think for one second that I would willingly let you walk off out there, where there's who knows what and be happy? I don't want to have to be the one to call your family to try and explain how their daughter got eaten by a cannibal monster while I was taking a nap!"

"Let me go then," Richard offered.

"No, you stay here and fix that radio, and see if you can get in touch with Enrico. Or, better yet, HQ!" He shouldered the grenade launcher and precariously walked over to Rebecca.

"Forest…"

He placed a hand on her shoulder, continuing, "we'll secure our means of escape."

There was no changing his mind.


	7. Chapter 7: Painted Crimson

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is __ to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**A/N: Okay, it has been quite a while since I last updated. I have been very occupied with multiple different things, but I have been coming back to this chapter over a period of time, adding to it and editing it and finally polishing over the work until I was happy to finally put it up. If there are mistakes, I will eventually come back to correct them in due course.**

**I am happy that I've finally managed to do a long chapter again. I got to do a bit of characterisation within this chapter, given that I could play around with background stories and personalities a bit. This chapter juggles the emotions quite a bit, and I hope I've managed to convey each part well. Read on now!**

**Chapter 7: Painted Crimson**

Upon entering the outer western hallway, Forest and Rebecca left Kenneth to investigate the rooms in the immediate area. Parting companies with words of support, the latter headed south as the former pair opted to take the door due north of an open tea room.

As they entered, they were greeted by another quiet, empty hallway. Though mostly obscured by shadowing from the thick foliage outside, faint streams of sunlight managed to paint the hallway just enough to reveal a clear path. The only sound to be heard was the light tap of a twig from a wildly overgrown bush right up against the window. Dirty streaks were left were the foliage rubbed away unattended.

The hallway itself was decorated in abundance by old black and white photographs spaced across the face of the right-hand wall. Many striking eyes of people unknown stared down at the pair with taut, serious expressions. Rebecca shivered involuntarily.

_How creepy_.

They pressed on cautiously.

Forest was walking as best he could, though the discomfort on his face was as plain as day. No matter how many times he tried to look unconcerned, the bother kept creeping back into his eyes and spreading until his expression clenched up tight. He'd told her over and over that he could cope with the pain, not that she believed him when she caught his whispered curses. The veteran soldier would limp on stubbornly, no matter how many times Rebecca tried to discourage him.

_Such a gentleman… _She smiled proudly, even though she thought he had more balls than brains.

Around a sharp turn, they entered another shorter corridor, which in turn led out into an open vestibule below a set of stairs. A rusty bird cage was sat on a round table just at the end of the corridor. Nothing left inside but dust, pellets and stray grey feathers.

The minute they came into the open room, Rebecca was overwhelmed by a ripe odour. Gagging, she turned her attention quickly to a corpse slumped haphazardly against the back wall. The dead man was painted brown from the dried blood coating his withered form. Bits were starting to flake off in thick clumps onto the floor around him. But that wasn't the worst of it. Both his throat and gut had been ripped apart, leaving nothing but empty chasms behind. By his condition, there was definitely no way he was going to turn into a zombie.

Forest shuffled over to the corpse, regarding the horrified expression forever etched into his bony face. He could only shake his head in response, sickened by the manner of death.

"What a way to go."

"I can't imagine how much he suffered," Rebecca whispered, turning away sadly - though in doing so, found herself looking up when she noticed two ropes hanging from a beam above. The ends were tied into nooses. Both bloodied.

"How did this get so out of hand?" Forest wondered aloud, solemnly stepping away from the body. "I just don't get it."

"Things must have happened before they knew what was going on," She said and shrugged. "That's all I can figure."

"You're probably right... So," he pointed up the stairs, "shall we?"

She nodded and led the way, gun poised upwards in her hands as she slowly ascended the creaky, oak steps. The sound twisted her stomach in knots.

_BANG!_

What sounded like a gunshot turned her sharply mid-step. In doing so, she tripped, falling backwards onto the stairs. She hissed sharply as she banged her hip on landing.

The origin of the sound became obvious where it came again. A small, high window, just above her. It slammed open and closed by the force of the rising wind.

Rebecca groaned quietly to herself.

Forest offered her his hand. "A little jumpy, aren't we?" Embarrassed, she looked down at her boots as she accepted the help up. He nudged her chin softly. "Don't worry. You're not the only one it spooked."

They climbed the rest of the stairs, faced with only a single door up ahead. With no other option, they decided to go through.

The new hallway was stuffy, due to lack of ventilation. The walls, covered with garish yellow paper, felt old and dowdy. Water marking and blood stains added a further sense of terror to their surroundings. There were splatters of who-knew-what underfoot, making Rebecca recoil with disgust. She stepped back, bumping into Forest.

She mumbled a weak apology. He patted her back understandingly.

With no time to be squeamish, they pushed on.

Forward of them was a door, which became their first port of call. Beyond was a narrow walkway made up of grey-white walls. Rebecca jumped at the sight of the armour beside her, but quickly calmed when she realised it wasn't an enemy.

_Okay, I've got to stop being so jumpy. Not everything is out to kill me… I hope._

The path before them followed up a tight flight of steps that forced them into single file. At the top, it turned onto a long, slippery flat, that was partially blocked by a small central column inset into the floor. On top of it was a key, engraved with a suit of armour.

Rebecca was just reaching for it when Forest grabbed her arm.

"Don't," he ordered. The look on his face was uncertain.

"Why?"

"I think its a trap." His eyes scanned across the walls and down to the floor. "Just look around. There is something odd about the layout." He started by pointing out the track under foot, then to the walls on either side of them, which were segmented - not in any way merged to the rest. And with the ominous statues looking as though they were connected to the rails, taking the key suddenly didn't seem like a good idea. "It could be the trigger. Best to leave it well alone."

Rebecca, seeing his point, left the key where it was and side-stepped around the column, walking further down the hallway, past another statue and down to where the corridor ended and a new door presented itself. But this one was locked up tight.

"Back the way we came, then," Forest said, not bothered for the time being. Both had the feeling that it would only lead them dangerously further into the mansion's deadly maze.

They stepped back out into the previous corridor and took the opening to the right. The door directly ahead was also locked, so instead, they turned there attention towards the corridor following around to their left.

Directly in front of them was a full length mirror slightly concealed by a dust cover. The uncovered part of the glass unnervingly revealed to the duo a body strewn down in the middle part of the corridor. Hesitant by what the reflection disclosed, Rebecca carefully leaned around the corner to regard the 'corpse', unmoving on the floor. It was the longest minute of her life standing there simply watching the body, but she couldn't be too sure after all.

Forest finally stepped out, pointing his hefty weapon at the dead body. He wasn't going to be easily mislead. Anything dead could simply get back up, however unbelievable that would have seemed twenty-four hours ago. If it was 'alive', he'd pull the trigger before it could even get to its feet. If not, then all the better for them.

"Wait a second," he told her as he slowly walked towards the prone body. He inched as close as his confidence allowed him, which kept him within a safe stride of it, before he used his bad leg to nudge the body - lightly at first, and then harder.

It didn't respond to his touch.

He thought the corpse must have been resting there for a while. Its skin was dark red, as if the blood had come to rest just under the top layer due to its prolonged position. The body must have been there a long time to get into such a state.

Forest blew out a sigh of relief, and turned back to the young medic. "I think its dead. And I mean, _DEAD_ dead!"

Rebecca seemed satisfied with his analysis and stepped around the corner, jogging over him to observe the body. "Wow, its been here a while."

He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. Well, whatever, as long as he doesn't get back up, then I'm fine with him being there."

Rebecca passed her companion, looking up at the mirror in the other corner of the hallway. It showed the area just around the bend was safe.

She smiled, turning. "It looks like everything's fi-" Her words cut off with a sharp gasp, and Forest went rigid as her expression paled.

The body behind them had rose, almost as if it had been pulled up by invisible strings. From its fingers burst horrific ivory claws, stretching out as the virus breathed new life into every limb. With a groan, a green mist spilled from its dried lips. As it lay its bright white eyes onthe two S.T.A.R.S, it gnashed its sharp fangs with intense hunger, strings of saliva dripping down its bony chin.

Forest snapped around with alarm, raising his weapon to intercept the enemy.

But it didn't simply shuffle like any old zombie, it ran at him like a raging bull, swinging an arm back and thrusting its claw directly at its prey. The left claw slashed Forest directly across the face, gouging into the flesh like a hot knife though butter.

The corridor echoed with his loud, anguished cry. He tried to pull away from its next ferocious attack, but was not quick enough to escape. This time he was caught under his right armpit by its downward cut. The grenade launcher fell from his hands.

The zombie came at him again, ramming into him hard enough to throw him over. Its dug its claws in tight, clinging to him as they went down together. With a roar, it clamped its mouth down onto Forest's arm as he defended his face from further mutilation.

Rebecca had momentarily been frozen to the spot, wracked with shock in response to their sudden predicament. Forcing herself to regain her senses, she shook off the horror and raised her Beretta, pulling the trigger on the 'super' zombie. A dozen bullets punched into its back, blowing out chunks of rotten, rubbery flesh and thick jelly-like blood. The zombie reared back, releasing Forest's arm. The downed man, used his good foot to kick his attacker away from him.

It fell for the briefest of seconds, but was quickly back on its feet before either of them could even blink.

This time, its blank gaze was focused entirely on Rebecca.

As Forest was left curled up on the floor in agony, the zombie charged Rebecca. She screamed for dear life as she pumped bullet after bullet into its rotting body. But it just kept coming, nonplus to her attack. In fact, it just seemed to get more and more angry at her.

_They're not suppose to get stronger! _The gun clicked empty, and her gasp was lost as the creature backhanded her across the face. She crashed against the opposing wall, crumpling heavily to the floor. Her gun skittered out of her grip.

It's hungry moan stirred her from her daze, though she was unable to react quick enough to stop it from grabbing her. It's clawed hands wrapped around the front of her bullet proof vest, and easily it pulled her small frame up towards its awaiting mouth. Drool dripped onto her cheek as it salivated over its soon-to-be meal.

Rebecca struggled, kicking feebly. She screamed, pounding its meaty chest pathetically. Its moan pierced through her heart as it prepared to clamp its teeth down into her throat…

… And WHAM! The grenade launcher was smashed over the back of its head. A crack emitted from its skull and it roared, throwing Rebecca backwards. She hit the floor with winding force. Struggling for breath and fuelled by fear, she clawed across the floor, desperately reaching for her gun.

The zombie turned as Forest stumbled back. Blood was spilling from his deep wounds, enticing it to lunge in his direction.

Peering through his uninjured eye, Forest aimed and fired. The grenade impacted like a bomb against the dead man's chest, blowing a great portion of it away. Bone and organs were left exposed and smouldering, yet it still stood, howling like a beast.

A second shot decapitated the creature in a thick spray of blood and brains, coating both the walls and floor around it. The body stumbled and collapsed heavily at his feet.

Shaking, the weapon dropped from his hand and he half slumped against the wall, unable to stop the vomit from rising and spilling from his mouth.

Rebecca with weapon retrieved, was back on her feet. Half reeling, she took in the state of her comrade and staggered anxiously to his side.

"OH GOD! FOREST!" He didn't register her shout. The pain and nausea had taken firm grip of him. He threw up until there was nothing left inside him, and finally collapsed backwards. Rebecca quickly reached to grab his arm, but was ultimately jerked down to her knees, unable to hold his weight.

Instantly, she went into a panic, horrified by the extent of the wounds inflicted on him. The left side of his face was ravaged - his cheek torn open with four sharp lines leaving thick strands of skin left to cover the area. A knick from one of the claws had caught the edge of his eyelid, which drooped off to one side. The wound under his armpit was a deep gouge bleeding profusely, as was the bite wound on his arm, though that was a much cleaner injury in comparison.

_This is bad… Real bad…_

His back arched as he coughed heavily, drops of bloody spittle escaping his lips and falling to the carpet. He started to shake almost to the point that he looked like he was close to fitting. She couldn't allow herself to get caught up in the horror of the moment, instead, she put herself into professional mode, intent to stabilise his critical condition.

"Hold on! Don't die on me!"

Rebecca picked herself up and ran back down the corridor, grabbing the dust cloth from on top of the mirror. Rushing back, she tossed it aside just while she retrieved some disinfectant from her pack, then carefully doused his wounds. Her hands strained, sweat beading her brow, as she took hold of the cloth and tore it apart.

Now with a few long, thick strips, she began to tightly bind his injured body, after which, she pulled out an assortment of antibiotics and painkillers and pumped them as quickly as she could into his blood stream. She couldn't tell if it would be enough, but there was nothing else she could really do for him at this stage with the supplies she had at hand. All she could do was hope and prey.

It was a struggle to get him to sit up, but she pulled and tugged with strength she didn't realise she had and finally got him into a better position with his back propped up against the wall. She shook him, trying to get him to focus on her, but he seemed quite unaware of what was going on. His good eye rolled sluggishly, disregarding both her and their surroundings. It was pretty much ready to shut completely.

"Forest, please, wake up! I'm begging you!" She grabbed her radio from her belt, fumbling awkwardly to press the button to dispatch a message. "Kenneth! Do you read me? We have an emergency! Over!" Beside her, Forest hacked profusely, spitting up another mouthful of blood, coming from his facial injury.

She waited patiently for her comrade to reply to her message but a minute dragged out with no response and Rebecca was left juggling between the radio and keeping Forest upright.

"KENNETH! PLEASE RESPOND!" She shouted desperately into the mouth piece. With no response, she changed to Richard. "Richard! Emergency! Respond immediately! Forest is injured! OVER!" And again, nothing. The same results. The young medic repeated the call to no avail. She shook the device angrily, almost slamming it against the floor. "GOD DAMN IT!"

Something had to be blocking the radio signal. It had come to her consideration after Richard had found nothing wrong with their devices. There was no way she could prove her theory, but for now, it sounded the like the best reasoning to her. She'd put it to their Back Up Man later as he was the expert on radios. For now though, she had to put the issue aside. She had to get Forest to a safe place and fast.

Wiping the sweat from his face, she noticed he seemed to be becoming more self aware. His face was a tad more flushed, and his eye had finally stopped on her, half desperate, half tired. The drugs were at least kicking in. One small miracle in the huge crisis.

She heard the door open at the end of the corridor they had previously entered from. For a second, there was relief. Kenneth might just have heard the gunshots or even got her messages…

She was just about to stand when her eyes befell the far mirror. She froze, slack jawed, as she watched a fat, decrepit zombie shuffle its way into view of the glass. It twisted in their direction, smelling the fresh blood from Forest's wounds.

"Oh no…" She breathlessly clung to Forest, shaking him fearfully. "Listen, you have to get up. We have to move now! Please, help me out here!"

Forest looked at her and blinked slowly as if he didn't quite comprehend her words. He was deathly pale and practically exhausted. What ever energy he had left was focused on staying conscious.

"Forest, please! Get up!" She pulled on his jacket as hard as she could, but he wasn't a light man, and he was mostly dead weight in her hands now that his efficiency was near enough zero.

Her eyes stared at the zombie, stumbling over his own two feet as it came around the corner, bumping into the mirror. It's crusty eyes spied them with a certain delight that only the dead seemed to possess. The passion of its hunger was what fuelled it's rotting heart.

The poor medic was lost. She couldn't trust herself to shoot straight. Couldn't trust that she wouldn't run out of bullets.

Her thoughts rested on her previous promise. That she'd run from trouble. And with Forest in the condition he was, that's what they needed to do. They couldn't face another battle.

"HELP ME, FOREST!" She implored, her voice near enough a scream. "GET UP! GET UP BEFORE YOU DIE HERE!"

He almost said something to her, his eye blinking uncertain, but suddenly opted for silence. Instead, unbelievably, he began to push himself up, relying on her to support him. And she did, the best she could, all the time watching the potbellied dead man shamble along slowly on rickety legs, arms reaching out from them. It still had a way to go, but they needed to move quickly to actually put some distance between them.

Rebecca grabbed the grenade launcher, shouldering it, as Forest, on pure will alone, struggled back to his feet. She put herself under his left shoulder, taking his blind side and away from his injured right underarm.

"Come on," she urged, this time softly. One foot in front of the other, they carefully began to move away. Each step he took was strained though persistent as he struggled to get away before he met his end at the hands of another zombie. Slowly but surely, they came to the new bend, around which was two doors. One directly ahead, the other to the far right.

Glancing back, the zombie was over half way down the corridor.

Rebecca didn't hesitate to guide them towards the first door offered. Reaching for the handle, she found it was locked. Panic started to rise.

The sound of the shuffling was getting very close, and the second mirror showed he was a few paces from the bend. She turned her attention to the other door, again, urging Forest to keep going for a bit longer. He just limped with her, almost in a trance, focusing with what energy he had left. His will to survive was still standing strong even though his body was in a very poor state.

The second door luckily opened, and she found herself back on the dining room balcony. The two passed onto the upper tier, and she quickly kicked the door closed behind them, just as the zombie entered the space between the two doors. A minute later, she could hear the sharp sound of its fingers clawing at the wood, thumping up against it. But it stood firm against the assault.

But Rebecca wasn't willing to put her faith in the door staying put for much longer.

"Let's keep going. I need to get you back to the medical room." She moved him to the second door further up. They had previously used it before to access the medical room.

She opened the door about to step in when she noticed two zombies lurking at the first corner. They turned just as she quickly backed up, slamming the door shut.

_Where the heck did they come from?! _She sucked in a sharp breath of stale air, sick to her stomach with the whole situation.

With no other choice, she decided to take him to the study. She was still hoping it was as safe as when they last left it.

Forest steps were faltering worse then before. His weight was beginning to press more firmly onto her and she struggled to carry on.

"Just a little further," she muttered through gritted teeth. He seemed to nod, but she couldn't tell if he really did or not. It surprised her that he'd even lasted this long.

As much as she urged him on, by the time they reached the first set of steps in the main hall, he collapsed, completely drained. She was dragged down with him, just managing to avoid falling down the stairs.

Struggling with his crumpled form, she just about managed to roll him back over, with a little insistence on her part to get him to help her out. He had put so much into obeying her commands that he was almost white. The blood loss had really taken its toll. It was quite apparent when she looked down at the make-shift bandages, which were soaked to the point of seeping.

He was in a pitiful condition.

At least for now, they were safe, but how much longer could he carry on in this state?

His tired eye opened and closed, trying to fight off the urge to sleep. Only one side of his mouth was working as he spoke, making him slur quite heavily. It didn't help in the least that he had a thick accent. "Rebecca…"

"Shh, don't talk…" She cradled his head in her hands, brushing back his hair with motherly affection.

"I'm a mess, aren't I?"

She didn't want to answer the question. A part of her prefusely told her not to voice how bad his condition was. That would only confirm what she didn't want to think.

There was a great chance he wouldn't live with the extent of his wounds, unless he could get to a hospital post-haste.

But there was no way out. No escape.

"Listen," she soothed. "I'm going to go back to get Richard. I can't move you by myself. There's probably some supplies in the medical room I can use to treat your wounds for the time being."

Just as she was about to stand, he weakly grabbed hold of her wrist. His one good eye stared at her with overwhelming despair.

"Please, don't leave me…"

His words took her by surprise, and she hesitated. Such a fraught request coming from a habitually strong soldier dropped her back to her knees. Something inside her said that his end wasn't too far away, and she had to turn away tearful eyes.

_You have to stay strong._

"Forest, I can't do much for you here…"

"It's too late for me, Rebecca," he murmured, clumsily trying to sit up. Assisting him, she managed to prop him in a half slouch against the solid wood banister. "We're trapped and I'm badly fucked up. Who knows how long I've got left…" He coughed, bloody spittle speckling his chin.

"Don't say that."

"What's it matter anyway?" He sighed and half smiled with the good side of his mouth. "I've had a good life." He seemed to almost drift off into his own world. "I've made some big mistakes though, some I'm going to regret until my last breath. I just wish sometimes I hadn't been so reckless… I wish I could change the past…"

Rebecca focused on retightening his bandages, half listening to his rambling. "Why do you say that?"

His eye wandered to her. There was no reaction to her touching him. His expression was slack. Tired and contemplative.

"I have a kid, you know," he said letting his eye drop to his arm when he noticed her hands at work on the bloody bandage. He seemed very ashamed, like admitting a sinful confession. "Most of the guys don't know that. They're family guys. Married with white picket fences. I was just a kid myself, making a big mistake…"

She nodded, seeing that her handy work had managed to stem the bleeding. Her fingers worked on the bandage under his arm. He flinched, but hardly seemed concerned by it, which seemed strange as the wound was a gruesome one.

"I was one of those cocky bastard teens. Thoughtless… Horny…" He tried to laugh, but it came out breathlessly.

"Come on, you shouldn't talk…"

He ignored her. "My little girl, she's twelve, you know. I don't really see her - not much…" He heaved a heavy sigh. "Me and her mom. It was a high school fling. I'd had loads of girls before, and didn't think once think about the consequences." He took a long pause, regaining his breath so he could speak more firmly. "I didn't have anything to do with her and my daughter until years after. Her mom hates my guts. She can't see I've changed. I stopped being an asshole a long time ago. I woke up one day and it was if I'd been taking a vacation from my body. I'm a one woman guy now. I want that single somebody for the rest of my life."

"You'll find her. And you'll see your daughter again. We'll get out of here soon. I promise." Though she tried to be optimistic, she didn't quite believe her own words.

"Listen to me," he leaned closer to her, enough to almost collapse against her shoulder. "My desk. In the second draw, right at the bottom. There's a red notebook. In the middle is a picture of my little girl. On that back of it you'll see a phone number and address. I know I'm not gonna make it, but I want you to send something, just to tell her what happened to me…"

"Forest…"

"Promise me you'll do that?"

Sighing, she nodded. "I promise."

She could only keep that promise if she survived herself. But the way things were going for her thus far, she didn't believe she was going to last much longer herself in this nightmare. All she wanted to do right then was go home to her family, hug them as tight as she could and never let go.

And she wanted to eat a strawberry parfait. And ride her bike across the park. And learn how to make cheesecake…

It seemed so sad, that her life would be wasted at only eighteen. Her eyes wandered to the large window, admiring the deep orange glow of the fading sun washing over them mournfully.

_This could be our last sunset… _Aside that thought, she considered that time had gone by so fast that day, even as things seemed to drag out into eternity. How long before someone would actually consider coming to look for them?

She wasn't looking forward to another night in this hellhole.

Her radio suddenly came alive with a startling crackle as the very breathless voice of their comrade Kenneth finally responded to them.

"Rebecca? Are you there? Over?"

She snatched up her radio, bouncing to her feet.

"Kenneth! Where are you? Over?"

After a seconds pause, his reply came buzzing back. "A kitchen area. I was in a bit of trouble. I've got it covered now. I sort of caught a part of your transmission earlier, but couldn't get through. What's your current situation. Over?"

"Forest is badly injured. I need your assistance right away. We're in the main hall on the upper balcony. Over?"

"Right, I'm on my way to you now. Over and out."

Sighing with some real relief this time around, she tucked her radio back on her belt and turned back to Forest. She was startled to see him on his feet and slowly struggling to pull himself along the balcony by the handrail.

"What are you doing?" She demanded with utmost concern. He ignored her as he pushed away from the bar and walked carefully with new found strength, outwardly restless. She promptly rushed to his side, taking his arm to try to pull him to a stop, but he seemed adamant on his unknown journey.

He had a disturbed look in his eye.

"Forest? What's wrong?" She asked, trying to get him to look at her. "You shouldn't even be walking in your condition. You'll only make yourself worse."

"Worse? I can't get any worse," he said in a low, matter-of-factly tone. His shaking steps led them around the top of the balcony until they came to a far door. One they had not previously searched.

He was eying it thoughtfully. Rebecca, hand on his arm, tried to figure out what was going through his mind, but to no avail.

Where had he possibly found the strength to get up again? Why wasn't he suffering from his wounds?

After a moment, he turned sluggishly to Rebecca. His eye seemed to be glazed somewhat.

"There is something very wrong with me," he murmured, pressing a hand to her shoulder softly. "Its gone beyond these wounds."

"I… Don't understand…" Though in someway, she did. It had to be the virus.

"The pain. It was so powerful before. But now, I feel so numb…"

"I've given you painkillers," she explained. "They've probably just about fully kicked in."

He didn't seem to agree. "I'm dying, slowly but surely. The pain is gone, and I just feel kinda cold. I… " He put his hand against the door, steadying himself as he began to sway. Rebecca's arms came to support him, and he allowed himself to rest against her.

"I won't let you die," she whispered, almost choking up. "It's my job."

The hand that had been resting on her shoulder came to lay atop her head, petting through her hair. He closed his eye. "You can't save everyone. It sucks I know, but that's life."

She bit her lip, two tears managing to spill free. It just all seemed so unfair.

"Rebecca, you've got to be strong for me. You're going to fight on... You're going to live." His hand finally moved from her hair to rest on the middle of her chest. "I know you're gonna make it. I know it..." His other hand carefully tested the door handle, and slowly, it opened, revealing a glass lined pathway that led to the outside world.

The breeze brushing against her face turned her attention, and in the split second, he pushed her backwards. She didn't expect it and she fell back against the banister. Her hands slammed down on the wood to steady herself, fearful of falling. About to question his action, her mouth froze open as she noticed he'd moved into the doorway, turning to smile sadly at her.

"Goodbye, Rebecca." And he slammed the door shut.

She rushed forward, just in time to hear a click. Her hand grabbed the handle, but it was as she feared. Locked.

"FOREST! NO! LET ME IN!" She slammed her shoulder against the door, but it wouldn't budge.

She heard movement behind the barrier, though it quickly faded away, until she was left with her own loud sobs echoing around the hallway and the pounding of her hands on the solid wood door.

"PLEASE, FOREST! COME BACK! LET ME HELP YOU!" She wailed, slamming her fists over and over again on the wooden surface, enough that they started to bruise with the sheer force.

She screamed and cried his name, begging him to come out until her voice became hoarse and croaky. Deep down she knew what he knew. That he was not going to live with his injuries. And that maybe, just maybe, he would end up like the rest of the occupants of the house.

Finally she slumped down to her knees, dragging her hands down the door, still continuing to thump her palms weakly on the barricade. She wept breathlessly, even as Kenneth finally arrived at her side to offer his comfort.

**A/N: I'm sad. I really wanted to keep Forest on for a little longer, but I knew I had to make his time short so that I could make everything work. Such a terrible fate for him...**


	8. Chapter 8: Fate So Dire

**Hazard: Zero To One  
**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is __©__ to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**Chapter 8: Fate So Dire  
**

Eventually, Rebecca allowed Kenneth to lead her back to the serum room. With the dangers lurking on the shorter path, they took the long way round. They went back to the corridor next to the dining room and entered an area she'd yet to explore, though Kenneth had confirmed the route was safe. Though, for how long?

Dusty floorboards, dirty floral wallpaper. A narrow path that was pretty much like everywhere else she'd explored. Luckily though, it was empty. The quietness was a relief aside the fear.

Everything seemed to blur around the shell-shocked medic, and she couldn't help being absorbed by the feeling of detachment swallowing her up. Her inner grief swayed precariously over the lines of professionalism and insanity.

_How much longer are we going to survive? How much longer before its my turn to die?_

She just couldn't seem to focus on things at all, simply moving on the command of her superior. Her gun felt like a rock in her hand, and she kept looking down at it, almost as if she'd forgotten the reason why it was there. As much as she tried to keep on top of things, her thoughts would keep shakily drifting back to those of her dying team mate. She could only blame herself for what had happened to him.

_Forest, please forgive me…_

Exiting left through the furthest door, she was back in familiar territory. There just ahead was the dead zombie whom she'd clobbered with the butt end of her shotgun. She stared at the bloodied corpse with surprisingly no reaction. Kenneth mumbled a sickened response before tugging her along behind him.

On the landing above the stairwell, the mournful cries of the zombies echoed as they shuffled around with desperate hunger. The two STARS carefully moved as quickly and quietly as they could to get back to the medical room.

Kenneth knocked to regain them entry. Inside, Richard heaved the trunk aside with his shoulder and whipped open the door.

The younger man held his breath when he saw that only the two of them had returned. Kenneth, with sombre eyes down cast, ushered Rebecca inside and re-shut the door. He silently began to move the trunk back into its protective position. Rebecca's expression was without colour. She was fighting hard to keep control of her distress, but was failing fast. Her red and puffy eyes looked up into Richard's and it wasn't long before they were fast brimming with tears again.

It burned him to see her expression so pitiful, and as much as he wanted to keep his mouth shut, Richard decided he should just ask the inevitable question. "Where's Forest?"

There was a second of silence before Rebecca's gun hit the uncarpeted floor with a loud clank that made them all jump. Her bruised hands went up to her face as she began to cry again, just as hard as she had before.

Richard didn't hesitate to take hold of her, tightly entwining her arms around her trembling frame. Her little hands clamped tightly to his t-shirt as she tried to muffle her sobs against his chest. She was breaking her heart, and he could only hold her in vain.

He looked up from the crying girl to meet the dejected glance of the older man. "What happened?"

Kenneth sighed heavily. "Rebecca said they were attacked and Forest was hurt pretty bad. I don't know why, but he locked himself outside." He slammed his fist atop the trunk with great frustration. "I wish I'd got there sooner…"

The two men fell silent in the wake of the tragedy, leaving only the sounds of Rebecca's sobs to fill the room. Richard stroked her hair softly, offering her as much compassion as he could muster. "Shh," he whispered, resting his chin a top her head. "Don't cry."

"It's all my fault. If only he had stayed behind," she blubbered, the words half muffled by his shirt.

"It was his choice to go with you. He wouldn't have had it any other way."

Kenneth slumped back onto the trunk, putting his gun down next to him. "What the hell do we do now?"

Richard took a moment to consider. "Do you think there is anyway we could get out to Forest?"

The other man shook his head. "Not that I know of. And that door is solid. It would take us nigh on forever to kick it in."

Richard huffed silently, and looked down to Rebecca, his voice softening. "Was Forest's condition severe? Do you think he'll last?"

The young woman finally pulled herself together, pulling back from his arms. She batted at the falling tears as she recalled the extent of his injuries. She shook her head sadly. "He suffered traumatic injuries to numerous parts of his body. With the blood loss, he doesn't have much longer to live." The sob that almost followed was quickly swallowed back as she willed herself to stop her hysterics.

It pained Richard but he knew there was no point trying to help Forest now. The man had pretty much decided his own fate, probably knowing he was going to die anyway. They all knew he was a lost cause, especially with their grim situation.

"Let's call a time out, okay?" Richard devised, mainly because he was out of ideas. "We really need to reassess our situation and, well, recover."

Kenneth was too tired to consider another option and quietly voiced his agreement. Rebecca hesitated, a part of her trying to argue for the sake of their dying team mate, but relented with a simple nod.

After a brief discussion of their previous trek, the trio released that they were in desperate need of food. Hunger had started to lay on them hard, having gone all day without a single bite to replenish their energy.

Procuring food was surprisingly easily within the medical room. A cardboard box at the bottom of the cupboard had a multitude of oddments from parts to what was once an old chemistry set mixed up with a couple of food boxes - the contents of which being two apple cake bars and a small packet of sweet oat biscuits. Right at the bottom, hidden under a ripped plastic bag, was a three hundred millilitre sealed bottle of spring water.

Someone at some point could have been camping out there for protection from the zombies or the food may have been their because of the medical staff. Each packet was thankfully still vacuum sealed, which made them more trustworthy to eat.

During his foray in the kitchen, Kenneth had done a little searching and found a hearty can of peaches, which added to the small delectable pile. Handily, the top of it was a pull back lid, so there was no need to search pointlessly for a can opener.

Rebecca hadn't realised how hungry she was until she took her first bite of one of the biscuits. She sunk back on the bed, gobbling her own share of the food with a greedy desperation. The biscuits were very sweet and crunchy, and she nearly choked stuffing one after another in her mouth. She only had a quarter of one of the cake bars - it was jam packed with enough sugar to keep her on her toes. She wasn't too fond of the peaches, but ate a few just to bridge the gap until she was able to eat again. They shared around the water - it wasn't very cold, but the few gulps she took quenched her thirst.

Her two companions had more of the food then she did, more for the fact that after taking off the edge of her hunger, she started to feel sick for having too much sugar. She deduced it was mainly because she was tired and decided to settle down on the bed for a short time, using Richard's lap as a pillow. The warmth he generated was relaxing in the moderately heated room.

With her stomach eased, she allowed herself to doze. Nobody complained against it - even Richard laid a hand on her shoulder supportively while she rested against him. Both men quietly talked about a general course of action.

She heard the beginning of the conversation. They were verbally drawing out the mansion, trying to think of a possible exit. Everything after that was a dotted mess of whispers as she fell in and out of sleep.

After some time, she awoke with a start. She didn't know whether it was for the fact she'd gotten too comfortable or something had just not felt right. But whatever, she sat right up, startling Richard who'd been relaxing back against the wall.

"What is it?" He asked.

Rebecca turned, looking around the room, disturbed by the fact that it was just the two of them there.

"Where's Kenneth?" She said, sounding suddenly frantic.

"It's okay, he headed out about five minutes ago," he informed her. She relaxed to some extent, though her face didn't look in the least happy. "He wanted to gather some more supplies. Oh, and he's keeping his eye out for that stone object."

She'd almost forgotten about it, but then again, she was more concerned for her comrade then a piece of stone. "Is it wise for him to go out alone?" Slowly, she climbed to her feet, stretching out her tired muscles. Noticing a glimmer under the lights, she saw her gun was still where it had fallen earlier and promptly went to retrieve it.

"He promised not to be gone long." He patted the radio on his belt. "He'll call us to say when he's coming back."

"I don't trust our radios," she voiced flatly. "Something's wrong with them."

Richard frowned. "I've found nothing wrong with them. They're in good condition, besides the broken one. I managed to put it back together, but I don't think its going to work properly."

She turned thoughtfully on her heel, pacing around in a circle. "There's got to be a signal purposely blocking our communication."

He was floored. "Are you serious? Why would someone do that?"

"I don't know…" She checked her weapon. The gun had fifteen bullets in the magazine, freshly snapped in before Kenneth had brought her back to the medical room. "… There's just a lot of things that don't make sense."

"For one, the existence of zombies," Richard said humourlessly as he stood up, picking up his own weapon, "I think we should do some more exploring of our own. We could continue searching for the stone object. Though if that fails, we could try searching for another exit. Maybe if we could find our way up to the roof, we could try and make a signal of some sort."

Rebecca nodded. "There's still plenty of places to explore."

Richard radioed through to Kenneth to tell him of their plan.

"Roger that," he replied.

"We'll still rendezvous back in the medical room. See you later. Over and out."

With guns at the ready, they left their temporary safe haven. It was fairly dark now in the hallway, though the wall lamps gave off enough lighting to fend off the shadows.

Richard suddenly stopped Rebecca in her tracks. His hand clamped tightly on her shoulder.

She froze. "What-"

"Shh." He listened, brow furrowed.

Rebecca said nothing, observing his confused expression with a feeling of anxiety. What was wrong? Why'd he stop her? What was he listening for?

"Richard?" She whispered.

"You hear that?"

She blinked and listened. Nothing - it was all eerily quiet.

"Hear what?"

"Exactly." His hand left her shoulder.

She listened again, and began to realise what he meant. There were no sounds from above - no zombie moans or shuffles. Absolute silence.

Not that Richard was simply going to trust the silence as being a hundred percent safe. Signalling for her to wait where she was, he took to the stairs with hesitant steps. She bit her lip, praying for his safety.

His shotgun moved swiftly from one side to the other as he reached the top of the stairs. His eyes darted from corner to corner, from shadow to shadow, but there was nothing to find.

He lowered his weapon, looking down at Rebecca who'd shuffled towards the bottom of the stairs. "It's safe…" His voice sounded slightly hesitant.

She jogged up the stairs to join him, unnerved at the sudden emptiness around herself.

"Huh?"

"Where the hell did all the dead guys go?" He muttered, pretty much voicing what she'd thought.

"Do we want to know?" She responded, looking up to him. The shared look of uncertainty said they both weren't quite ready to relax.

"Let's go back through the dining room door," he suggested. "I want to head back to that 'U' hall. There's a door through there I want to check out." She nodded and followed him around the top of the stairs.

Richard opened the door to the dining room, partially stepping out as a figure lurched out from the darkened walkway. A bloated zombie, partially scalped, grabbed the young man by the shoulders, gnashing its teeth at him like a wild animal.

With a cry, Richard slammed his hands against the chest of his attacker, jolting himself free from its flimsy grip. Furiously, he kicked it in the belly, sending the zombie tumbling back into the previous room. After which, he slammed the door shut.

"Are you alright?!" Rebecca panicked.

"I'm fine. Let's just take the other door," he ordered between hurried breaths.

The door in question was the one directly behind her. Solid metal with a rickety handle - Rebecca had to push hard to get it to open. A blast of warm air met her as she hesitated on the threshold.

Another balcony - a simple concrete tier surrounded by grey, iron railings - empty as far as the eye could see. The plant growth there was the only memorable feature. Ivy, entangled around a thin mesh, grew uncontrolled across the walls. On the floor just across the way was a rectangle pot growing a healthy looking cluster of Raccoon herbs. There was no furniture around, which she'd expected to see.

After a moment, she finally stepped out. Richard followed her, slamming the door shut. Behind them, the zombie had started to furiously bang on the other door. Neither wanted a second encounter with him and put the solid metal door as another safety barrier between them.

Rebecca went to gather a hand full of the green herbs.

_You never know_, she pondered to herself.

The balcony turned off on a narrow path past a large stained glass window. Where it lead, neither could guess.

Rebecca motioned in its direction. "There might be an exit at the other end…"

Richard nodded. "Right." He took the lead again.

Passing the window, the young medic couldn't help but have a look through. She could see the zombie still at work attacking the door, but it just couldn't seem to get through.

Around the corner, the balcony split into two areas. The top area was a continuation of the narrow bath, now roofed over by slate and ivy. The bottom area could be accessed by two sets of three steps on either end of the walk. It was pretty much void of features aside from a few old gardening tools and a broken patio chair. A single red herb sat in a small pot in the corner. Just for the sake of curiosity, she took it with her. She had a feeling it would come in handy.

As previously hoped for, there was an exiting door in set into the end wall.

"Thank God," she heard Richard mutter, unlocking the thick latch with a swift tug.

She was just wrapping up the red herb when something caught her ear. It drew her gaze over the moonlight sky, her attention sharp and focused.

The whirl of blades. The thrum of an engine.

"A helicopter," she voiced with renewed hope.

Richard turned from the door. "What?"

She leaned over the rail of the balcony, focusing on what appeared to be a flickering light due north, which was scanning over the trees below it. It faded off very quickly, but she was very certain of what she'd seen.

"I swear! A helicopter! Someone's looking for us!" She had to stop herself dancing for joy. For a fact, she could be wrong, but a part of her really believed what she'd seen and heard.

Richard listened out, but the sound was pretty much non-existent now. He frowned, more to himself then to her. "Are you sure?"

"Positive!" She wanted to hug him with excitement, but stopped herself. She wanted to appear professional after her prior hysteria. "If there's a way to get on the roof, lets go look for it! Or maybe we can find the helipad mentioned in the diary. If we can just make a signal, they might be able to come get us!"

"Let me just try something," he retrieved his radio, changing its current frequency. "This is Richard Aiken of STARS Bravo team. If there is anybody out there, please respond."

Rebecca gripped the railing tightly, listening to the breeze rustling the vegetation below. There were no more sounds like she'd heard before, only the howls of the hungry dogs in the forest. She waited anxiously to a response through the ringing static echoing from the radio earpiece. However many times he repeated the message, no response ever came in return.

She didn't think it was going to work anyway. In her heart she was certain there was a conspiracy against them. She just couldn't shake off the feeling…

Richard gave up. "Come on, let's go inside."

Casting her eyes once more across the dark, starless sky, she sighed and allowed herself to pull away and re-enter the hell house.

On the other side of the door was the main hall, glowing orange and grey from the minimal lighting. They crossed over the walkway back to the door that lead to the U hall, though before entering, curiosity overcame her, and she went over to the door Forest had gone through and tried to handle. Still locked.

With a sombre heart, she left it be and hurried to keep up with Richard, who'd already entered the U hall. He was waiting for her outside the closest door. She quietly regarded the previous carnage left to rot on the carpet, still finding hope in herself that they would survive. They could get through this if they fought for just a little longer. Soon, it would all be nothing but a bad memory.

The door into the new corridor opened with a loud creak. Richard entered first with Rebecca covering the rear. There were no threats in the small L shaped hallway, nor was there anything useful to find.

No stone object simply just lying around, as they both would have hoped.

Passing through, they entered into another narrow hall that split off only one way. On the left at the end of it was a single door. A few strides ahead of them was a number of wooden stairs leading up to a dusty framed timber door. Thick cobwebs collected ominously from the corner of the walls to the border edge, giving it a sort of cave like appearance.

Not a good image.

"You check out the door down there?" Richard said, pointing towards the narrow corridor. "I'll take a quick look around up there," he motioned to the closest door. "Any sign of trouble - get out of there. Don't hesitate to yell for me."

She didn't like splitting up, but they weren't really going far from each other. And the more area they covered, the less time they would need to spend in the mansion.

"Alright," she said, positioning her gun up to her shoulder as she took careful strides down towards the other end of the corridor. Behind her, she heard her comrade ascend the creaky steps and open the door. It closed with a loud echo behind him.

She reached for the handle to the entrance before her, wrapping her fingers tightly around the dirty brass as she cocked her gun forward in preparation for anything that could be behind it. With a quick thrust, she threw the door open.

Both hands gripped the gun as she aimed into the room. It was nearly pitch black in front her, and for a moment she shuddered coldly as she pointed hesitantly at the unknown shadows. There was no sounds whatsoever - it was just her alone pointing her gun into a deserted room.

As her eyes began to adjust, she made out a square dinner table in the centre of the windowless room. It was laid out with four plates to each chair situated around it. A set of silver knives complimented a silver candle stick set at the furthest end. In the centre sat a fruit bowl containing a handful of withering apples. Around the room's edge was a chest of draws and two china cabinets filled with an assortment of decorative saucers. Everything was covered with an undisturbed layer of dust. Nobody had been there in a long time.

Leaving a trail of footprints on the grimy floorboards, Rebecca walked towards the table, noticing that on one of the chairs sat a lighter. She could make out that the old chrome casing was engraved with the symbol of an eagle. For some reason, she'd become very particular about details, in case anything was needed for an overly dramatic puzzle.

With her thumb, she flipped open the lid and flicked the rolling switch to ignite a small flame.

The room slowly lit up in a glow of yellow. Now with her surroundings more clear, she felt more assured that she was safe and circled around, checking every crevice to see if she could find the stone object or any papers that could help them in their escape. Besides finding an unexpected 9mm clip on the chest of draws, there was nothing else worth taking.

It was just as she was heading towards the door when she noticed the slight gap behind one of the china cabinets. Compelled to check out what was behind, she went over to push it aside. But it was too heavy for. However hard she pushed, it refused to budge an inch.

Cursing, she kicked the side out of frustration. And in that second, the flame in the lighter in her hand went out. Plunged into darkness once more, she cursed again.

A horrific cry ripped through the air, freezing her to the spot.

The sound had come directly from the attic.

"Richard!" She cried through the darkness, running in the direction of the door. Bumping against it, she desperately searched for the handle and yanked it open, charging out down the corridor in the direction of the other door.

She tripped up the first step on the stairs, but quickly got back to her feet and stumbled up to grab the door handle, throwing the door open, in time to catch Richard running into her, He was gripping his arm tightly, wheezing with pain. Blood splattered on the floor in thick red drops.

Behind him, she caught a glimpse of a dark shadowing sliding gracefully across the room towards them before he slammed the door tightly shut. The hiss behind the wooden barrier sent a chill down her spine.

"What was that!?" But she didn't have time to consider it as she watched Richard lurch down the stairs, leaving a big bloody handprint on the cinder coloured wall. She quickly pursued, trying to support him under one arm as he staggered towards the door they'd first entered from.

"Snake… Biggest fucker on the planet…" He groaned, shaking has he glanced down at the wounds on his arm. Two large puncture wounds were left by his attacker, which were now starting to turn purple. "I've been poisoned…"

She was taken back. "Oh God! We have to get you back to the medical room! You need that antivenin!"

Even with her support, they only made it into the next corridor before he convulsed and collapsed, taking her to the floor with him.

The poison was potent enough to induce severe symptoms within a short time of the bite. She couldn't guess how long it would take for the poison to completely ravage his body, but she wasn't going to stick around to find out. She'd have to risk leaving him for a short time to run back to get the antivenin.

She propped him on her lap, raising his head to look at her. His eyes were unfocused, and he shook furiously, each breath deep and desperate as his body slowly failed to fight back. His hand reached out and gripped her elbow. The fear in his face had her fraught with worry.

"Listen, I'm going back for the serum."

"Don't let me die here alone…" He whispered, fingers tightening on her arm.

"I promise, I won't be long! I just have to leave you here for a short time. I'll-" The door from the U Hall creaked open and she stopped mid-sentence. She carefully turned to look over her shoulder as the shadow of an unknown figure slowly moved up towards the turning.

Her hand rested on the butt of her gun laid next to her on the floor.

_Oh God, please help us…_


	9. Chapter 9: Hope Renewed

**Hazard: Zero To One  
**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is __©__ to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**A/N: This chapter is a short one, focused on emotion over action. Gives me a breather between events.**  
_  
_

**Chapter 9: Hope Renewed**

Rebecca's heart raced, terrified of her impending fate as the shadow finally became a figure, rounding the pillared corner of the corridor. The surprise that suddenly overtook routed her to the spot with her jaw frozen open.

What she expected to be a zombie, was in fact a living breathing human being, pointing his own weapon at her - the same standard issue Beretta she had. His own expression mirrored hers with rivalled astonishment. The tall, dark haired man before her was decked out in combat gear - green flak jacket with custom knife holster, charcoal pants plus leather protected kneepads, and a white t-shirt distinctly bearing the S.T.A.R.S symbol on the sleeve.

Rebecca guessed he was from the Alpha team. She'd only met a couple of members from the other side mainly because of their opposing shifts. He was one of the new faces she was yet to get to know; but deep down, she knew she could trust him. Relief blanketed her, settling her pulse somewhat. She left her gun where it rested.

Upon seeing she wasn't one of the undead, the man pointed his weapon to the floor.

"Who're you?" She asked softly, still somewhat in awe of his arrival. She'd been right - someone had come after them. The sounds she'd heard before had been very real.

"Chris Redfield, Alpha team. I'm here to rescue you," he replied as he holstered his weapon, walking around the side of her, curious of the reason she was on the floor. He stopped suddenly when he noticed her companion. "Richard!" He dropped to his knee, alarmed by the state of his colleague.

Upon hearing Chris's voice, the younger man's dazed expression turned up to him. "Chris…" He hacked profusely, reaching out to him. "This house is too dangerous. You need to get your team out of here…" He arched suddenly, wracked with hot pain. Chris carefully took his hand, gazing from the wound on his friend's arm up to Rebecca.

"What did this to him?"

"He was bitten by a poisonous snake. From what I saw, there was significant mutation in the creature's genetic structure which caused the reptile to grow to massive proportions…" Seeing the older man was losing track of her sentence, she decided just to get to point of the matter. "The poison is extremely potent. He desperately needs serum, but its located in the medical room on the west side of the house. I need to go-"

"No, you stay here. Richard needs you. I'll go." He stood up. "Can you give me clear directions?"

She quickly described the quickest route to the medical room, and warned him of the perils he could face.

"It's okay," he said, taking out his weapon. "I'm a good shot. You don't need to worry about me."

She cupped Richard's paling face, stomach knotted with fear for his life. "And remember. The serum is in a small brown bottle on the right at the end of the shelf. It's labelled clearly."

"I'll be back before you know it." Retreating back the way he'd come, the Alpha team member disappeared off like a shot. The door on the way out slammed loudly behind him. And all the medic could do was wait, clinging to his ailing comrade with the hope that Chris would get back before she lost another one of her team mates.

The doubt must have been showing on her face as Richard ardently drew her attention back to him by lifting his hand to touch her cheek. Her startled eyes met his pale, assured ones.

"I trust Chris," he said softly, fighting but failing to stop the tremors shifting throughout his body. "He's never let me down before."

Rebecca smiled weakly. "I believe I can trust him. He seems a good man."

His fingers slipped from her cheek, though grabbed at the strap to her Kevlar vest, trying however he could to keep hold of her. She looked at his quivering fingers, and reached out to touch them softly.

"Rebecca…" His voice lowered to a whisper. "… I'm scared."

She swallowed back the building lump of emotion at the back of her throat, though her eyes glistened, no matter how hard she fought not to well up. "It's okay to be scared. I'm scared too." Trying not to have another emotional breakdown, she focused on keeping him stable enough to buy time for Chris. "Now, you have to stop talking. You need to conserve every ounce of energy you have left. The calmer you are, the slower your heart will beat and the slower the poison will move around your blood stream."

He blew out a shaky sigh. "Don't leave me, okay? No matter what…"

"Shh. I won't, I promise."

"Thanks…" He smiled at her, even through the tremendous pain. "… I'm glad its you that's with me now. At least, if I die, the last thing I'll see is your beautiful face…"

Flabbergasted, she said nothing.

_Delirious,_ she assumed, though was greatly flattered aside. He always knew the right thing to say at the worst possible time. He may have been suffering, but he certainly didn't want her to feel bad.

Sitting there, absorbed in the near silence, she realised how heavy she suddenly felt. More so, how weighty her heart had become. She was beginning to lose her fighting spirit. She'd lost the strength she'd had the night before. Not only reduced to using feeble firearms, but now even more trapped then she had been before.

A new recruit stranded in a nightmare with her more experienced colleagues falling all around her. She didn't seem to have a hope in hell, yet, luck had seemingly been on her side to keep her alive for this long. Whatever talents she had appeared subliminal compared to everyone else caught up there too.

On her search for Billy she'd fought off some abdominal creations, worse than the zombies lurking around. She'd been stronger alone, not having to worry too much for her comrades. In her mind, she thought they would be able to handle themselves - far better then even she could despite the unpredictable situation. But it wasn't playing out that way, and now, with losing most of her allies, her vulnerability was being put into perspective.

Matters were getting worse by the second, and she didn't think she was going to live to see another sunrise.

_No, I can't think like that! I need to stay positive! _Her eyes settled down on Richard, who was fighting with every ounce of strength to stay awake.

Her head tilted as she observed him thoughtfully. This man in her lap, the one who always smiled whenever she was around, had been the first to welcome her into Bravo team. From day one, Richard had always given her kind words of support, and was always on hand when she needed help.

She was a girl fresh out a university. The big wide world was a scary place to settle into, and yet, he and the other Bravo's made it so much easier and made it all seem a little less daunting then what she'd first imagined.

Though now, it was all being put to the test.

What use was she really to anyone? She had only a basic knowledge of law enforcement. A few months before actually joining S.T.A.R.S. officially, she had done work experience at the RPD with the Bravo's and some of the RPD's regular beat cops. And along side that, she'd attended physical training sessions at a specialist training hall on the other side of the city. As soon as they'd established she had a fundamental knowledge from police training, she was officially drafted into Bravo team, now expected to pick up most of her techniques out on the front lines.

So, only armed with basic policing skills and her own honed medical abilities, she was suddenly apart of the big world of S.T.A.R.S., relying on people like Richard to see her through.

Right now, all that basic training felt like nothing, and she was left praying the kind man in her lap was going to pull through.

In her heart, she held a special place for Richard. Nobody else she'd met in her life thus far had ever accepted her with open arms like he had. She'd been a social reject, stuck in her books out of the way of everyone else. She'd only had a few real friends, the kind of people who understood her eagerness to learn about everything that existed around her. But now she'd grown up, she'd realised she didn't simply want to make the grades; she wanted to be more like everyone else. The child inside her yearned to go and party and experience things more openly. She'd begun to regret pushing it all aside for her education. But in the end, it had all been for a good cause. Her career prospects had been greatly promising, though, the price she'd paid for the success had been high.

The awkwardness she'd felt around her peers had started to shed away when she'd come to Raccoon City. Richard, even though he seemed the more outgoing type, had been interested to get to know her. And secretly, she wanted to get to know him more beyond friends. She'd had crushes before (as she assumed this must have been) but they'd quickly passed. Besides, in view of her past circumstances, romance had been out of the question. She'd been a teenager at university with people much older then her. It wasn't feasible.

Admittedly, she liked her attachment to Richard. He made her feel comfortable, wanted and happy.

Maybe it was love? Maybe it was admiration? She couldn't quite figure it out. Besides, why would this man, five years her senior, consider a girl like her?

_Why the hell am I even thinking like this? What are you, a school girl or a police officer?_

She drew his hand from the strap of her vest and lay it on his lap, entwining her fingers around his. He gently squeezed her hand in response.

"You know," she whispered, "they made a mistake sending someone like me out here. No real experience under my belt. There are so many other people out there - stronger, better qualified. And here you have me looking after you, a kid… Not even twenty years old…"

Richard smiled weakly, half shrugging. "We should have brought the Ghostbusters."

The door to the corridor opened and closed again brusquely. Around the corner came Chris, panting heavily as he skidded down to one knee, presenting the little bottle of antivenin to the young medic.

"Here, is this what you wanted?"

She nodded. "Thank you." From within her side pack, she retrieved a clean needle and stuck it into the small bottle, drawing up the dark contents into the syringe. "Listen, Richard, I'm going to give you a shot now. This may sting a little." She flicked the contents, removing any little air bubbles before reaching for the ailing man's arm. It wasn't hard to find a vein.

At this time, Richard put all his focus on Chris to draw his attention away from the needle about to plunge into his arm. "Chris, do you have communications with the other Alpha members?"

"No. Brad flew off with all our equipment when we were attacked by dogs. We're lucky to have what we have."

Richard groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as Rebecca injected him with the serum. He was washed by a wave of nausea that lasted over a few seconds. After a few careful breaths, he felt but, but his head started to feel heavier. While he still had the chance, he reached for the radio on his belt and handed it over to the other man. "Here, take my radio. You'll need it more than me…"

Chris accepted the item, brow furrowed. "Richard, hang in there."

Richard's tired blue eyes glanced up to the young woman, carefully finding her hand again. "Please… take care… Rebecca…" With a shuddering breath, his eyes fell closed as his whole body slumped heavily in her lap.

"Richard!" Chris panicked.

Rebecca calmly pressed her fingers against the pulse point on his neck. The beat beneath the skin was strong. With the colour slowly returning to his cheeks, she was certain the serum had done its job.

She looked up to Chris, offering an encouraging smile. "It's alright. He's just passed out."

Chris sat back, blowing out a sigh of relief. Seconds later, he raised a hand and placed it firmly on her shoulder. "Look, we can't stay here any longer. It's not safe. We should take him back to the medical room. The path there is clear for now."

She nodded. "You're right. How shall we proceed?"

"Don't worry, I'll carry him. Do you have plenty of bullets for your gun?"

She picked up her weapon, checking the magazine. "For now."

"Good. Let's get moving."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so I did add some underlining romance there. I couldn't help myself.**


	10. Chapter 10: The Dutiful One

**Hazard: Zero To One  
**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is __©__ to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**A/N: I have been taking my time over this chapter, so it has been delayed quite a bit from when I originally wanted to post it. This chapter is so much different to how it was first drafted. Its been through four changes from the scenes that actually appear and the order they appear in (As well as the chapter has had four different titles). Got it finally the way I want it. A little bit of activity going on here and some familiar happenings from the game worth noting too...**

**Speaking of games, Umbrella Chronicles is shaping up to be interesting. I'm pleased about the scenario that has Richard playing an extended role (even though he isn't directly playable). Too bad the other Bravo members have been neglected. Such a shame...**

**But anyway, on with the story!**

**Chapter 10: The Dutiful One**

Chris carefully lowered Richard onto the medical room's bed as best he could. After the long trek with the man over his shoulder, he only managed to get half of him on the bed. His exhausted arms had near enough collapsed on him as he tried to direct the limp body onto its intended resting place. Rebecca dutifully took over, lifting Richard's legs up onto the mattress. After giving the pillow a good fluffing, she folded it in half and propped it under his head. She gently wiped his pale forehead, smiling at his placid expression. Nobody could have guessed with his expression that he had faced his own death in the form of a giant, mutant snake. Now in the relative safety of the medical room, she could attend to his wounds properly. With the poison issue resolved, all she had to do now was prevent the injury from becoming infected. She bathed and disinfected the bite before tightly wrapping a cloth bandage around his arm, taping it in place. After which, she left him to recover peacefully.

Her attention now went to Chris.

"Would you like me to attend to any of your injuries?" She'd come to notice some distinctive scratches on both his arms. Beforehand she'd not really noticed, as her full attention had been on Richard. She couldn't help but feel a little guilty about it.

"Sure, if you could?"

The scratches weren't anything serious, only superficial, but she wasn't going to take any risks, not with the kind of things lurking around out there to take advantage and spread their infection.

"Can you give me a report on your situation?" He asked once she'd finished attending him.

A soft sigh escaped her lips. She hated having to remind herself of what was going on. "Two confirmed dead, our pilots, Kevin Dooley and Edward Dewey. Our Omni man, Forest Speyer, is suspected dead. Richard…" She cast a glance over to the man in question as she said his name. "… Injured but stable. Captain Marini is missing. I haven't heard anything from him since coming to the mansion. I'm not certain about Kenneth Sullivan. He went off looking for an object that could open the back door." She took up occupancy of the seat situated beside the bed, suddenly very tired. "We were in contact an hour ago. I hope he's okay…"

Chris fell silent, brooding over the loss of his team mates. Though his grief was quickly overshadowed for the time being by what she'd mentioned in the latter part of her report.

"Back door?" He probed with interest.

She nodded. "It's on the east side of the mansion. It could lead to a vehicle storage shed, or maybe out to the helipad we found mentioned in a document."

Chris went to sit down on the edge of the bed. "What was the object in question?"

"It was called a stone and metal object. I have no idea what it looks like." She produced the diary pages for him to glance over. Chris accepted them, absorbing the contents thoughtfully. Rebecca in the meantime checked Richard's pulse point on his wrist. Slow, steady and strong - she had no worries for him. He'd be fine.

"There're just too many strange things in this house," she muttered to herself, though Chris had caught what she said, and could only offer a soft, supportive smile.

"I second that. But we'll get through this, I promise."

How concrete was that promise? Could they really make it out of this nightmare alive?

Rebecca recalled what Richard had said earlier.

"_I trust Chris__He__'__s never let me down before.__"_

The young nurse clung to her fellow Bravo's arm, swallowing back her uncertainty, if only for a little while. She was going to put her cards on the table. She was going to rely on Chris, and believe that they could get out of there.

The proof she could trust him had come with his quickness to get the serum to them.

_He's a real hero_, she reputed with silent admiration, looking up into his cerulean blue eyes with every ounce of faith in her body.

"Oh, speaking of objects, check this," he said, digging out numerous pieces of torn paper from a pocket on his jacket. She accepted them, glancing over what appeared to be a bizarre riddle.

He awkwardly rolled his hands as he tried his best to explain the enigmatic text. "There's a mentioning of some masks that supposedly unlock something or other. I've found one already…" From his own side pack, he produced the most morbid looking mask she's ever seen. The material of it looked leathery - very skin like, and was crudely stitched together. The worn, dusty material was melded quite accurately into the shape of a face, only, this mask had something missing.

The eyes.

All that were left were two, deep voids of haunting emptiness. There was something about the mask that physically repulsed her enough to shuffle her chair back an inch.

"It's ugly," she declared bluntly. She returned the papers to him.

"Not the prettiest thing I've ever come across. Reminds me of an ex-girlfriend…"

She stifled a chuckle, still feeling rather unnerved by the eyeless face. "What do you think it unlocks?"

Chris shrugged. "Beats me. All I know is that it fits somewhere down in the crypt outside."

"Crypt?" Her heart almost stopped.

What was a spooky mansion without a dark, scary tomb? It fit the plot perfectly. All they needed now was some thunder and lightning and they'd have themselves a B-class horror movie.

"Yeah, I came across it earlier when I was chased around the back by those dogs outside. When I climbed the fence, I pretty much came face to face with it."

She slumped further in her seat. "It gets more and more eerie by the minute. What on Earth are we going to do?"

"I'm going to try and collect these masks and see what they unlock. It could lead to a potential escape route. I found some notes that have suggested the locations of the masks. There are supposedly four in total. One happens to be in the area where I found you guys."

Rebecca sat up straight. "You should be careful if you go back there! That snake almost killed Richard. Who knows if it can be contained…"

"Hey, relax. Everything will be alright." He leaned forward to pat her shoulders reassuringly. His expression told her he was not in the least phased by her postulation. That in itself had her even more worried. She realised she wasn't going to convince him not to go up there again, and she was certain he wouldn't let her tag along either.

_So brave and yet so stupid…_

She sighed in resignation. "Well, you just take care of yourself, and not just when you go back up there. This whole place is dangerous. You never know what you're going to meet next…"

Chris seemed to ponder her ominous statement. As comical as it should have been, the horror in her eyes only seemed to enforce how treacherous things were.

She had seen the oddest of the odd lurking in every shadow - things that were only ever meant to exist in legends or in bedtime stories concocted by a mischievous brother to scare their sibling rigid. But the Alpha team member was a bold man, and never liked to be backed into a corner. If there was a way to get out of this mess, he'd find it and plough down any monster that stood in his way.

He unholstered his gun, griping it with confidence. "Take care of Richard. I won't be gone too long."

"Alright." She swivelled to look back at her sleeping team mate.

As he reached the door, he suddenly turned back. "If you can, get in contact with Kenneth. Tell him to get back here."

She pulled out her radio almost instantly, nodding towards him.

And then he was gone.

His departure left Rebecca feeling very vulnerable. Not only did she have to take care of herself in a house of the undead with a puny 9mm handgun, but she had to worry about Kenneth's whereabouts as well as nurse Richard back to a reasonable state of health so they could escape back to civilisation. Things just didn't seem to look up, even when help had arrived.

Her spirits had been dashed when she'd learnt that the alpha team's pilot had taken off in a fit of fright and stranded them all there.

And why was Chris alone? How the heck did he get split up from his team mates?

She recalled him mentioning the dogs and a chase. All in all, it pretty much seemed that their team had also fallen straight into this nightmare without much hope of survival.

Displeased with the stacking odds, the only thing she really wanted to do was scream her head off. But she didn't. Instead, she put her energy into contacting Kenneth…

… Which unfortunately came of nothing.

Like before, she was met only by an endless static. She tried and tried again, pleading for her comrade to respond, but received no answer. After nearly ten minutes of trying, she finally gave in. He'd either heard her at some point or didn't at all.

Signal blocking? Faulty radios? The frustration of having to deal with this whole issue again nearly brought her to tears. There was nothing she could do to remedy the problem.

_Its all an endless loop of disasters…_

She flopped forward, burying her face on the edge of the bed, almost wanting to smother herself so she wouldn't have to go through anything else, because, as she was surmising, it was only going to get worse.

Why was it that she, and eighteen year old medic, ended up in a war against the undead? How did this kind of thing happen without being considered a big, sick joke? Where did she go wrong to end up facing her death this way?

Her hand curled around Richard's, using him as her rock as she fought to keep herself in check. As long as he was still here with her, it wouldn't be so bad.

"Please, God," she whispered, bringing Richard's hand to press against her cheek. "Please let us get out here alive. If not me, then let Richard live. That's all I ask."

Her murmured prayer left her lips dry and her heart tight as she considered her own mortality. It was her duty to put others need before her own, and she made it a promise to herself that whatever happened, she'd make sure the others escaped this horror alive.

In the quiet of her own inner declaration, something caught her keen hearing. If she hadn't been so aware of her surroundings, she'd have probably missed it at first. A dull thump, like someone bumping into a wall or a door. Very odd…

She definitely didn't miss the second sound, like wood splitting with a high pitched creak. Rebecca couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from, but felt the need to investigate the source. Whatever had caused the sounds could potentially threaten them, and she didn't want to be caught off guard by whatever it might be.

Figuring she could also take the chance to look for Kenneth at the same time, she proceeded to take up arms and venture back out into the unknown. Looking back to her sleeping comrade, she asked the heavens to watch over him while she went away.

There were no sounds whatsoever outside the medical room. Not from above, not from around her. Nothing.

She was steeped with restlessness.

With no enemies around, she was not sure whether to be on high alert or to actually relax. But from the previous noises, there was definitely no time for the latter. She kept her gun pointed vertical at chest level, moving with swift albeit steady steps. She exited the corridor back through the door that led into the hall she'd passed through before when Kenneth had brought her back to the safety of the medical room.

The dark and gloomy surroundings were ominous. Very much alone, she kept rooted on the spot, hand on the door handle in case something came lurching out of the darkness, ready to eat her.

But this area, too, was quiet and abandoned.

_I don't know if I should see this as a blessing… _It didn't seem likely at the rate her heart was beating.

She remembered Kenneth had been exploring the outer dining hall corridor prior to meeting with her again. It was her assumption that he would have gone back there if he hadn't finished his exploration. Ignoring the creepy shadows painted against the moonlit windows, she quickly headed towards the far door.

Again, she was greeted by silence as she quietly closed the door behind her. Nothing to threaten her presence.

Rebecca sighed, putting her back to the previous door. She first turned to the left to find she couldn't make anything out beyond the shadows blanketing the end of the corridor, and then to her right, where the open tea room was. The moonlight lit the area nicely, but she still couldn't see anything beyond the bend. But at least there were no looming shadows.

Though, a strange smell lingered. Like fresh death…

CLANK! The jingling of chains echoed loudly from beyond the far window.

Rebecca stepped back, pointing her gun towards the glass, simply waiting for what might come.

_Could this be the source of those sounds?_

Passing behind the dirty pane, a hunched figure stumbled, groaning lowly. The clinking of old iron followed the desperate looking shadow as it moved around the side of the house. It didn't stop to the notice the young medic, whose jaw dropped with horror.

_Who on Earth… ? _She forced her legs to work as she jogged towards the window, to see if she could get a better look at the _thing_that had passed by.

Though the minute she stepped out into that open room, her eyes went from the window down to the floor. In a split second, she'd thought it had been a zombie lying wait, and her gun instinctively aimed down. But quickly she discovered the true identity of the figure on the floor.

It was Kenneth.

And he wasn't breathing.

She gasped loudly, dropping to her knees at the side of her fallen comrade. "Oh God! Ken-" She reached for him then stopped. The glazing of his wide fearful eyes already told her what she didn't want to believe. He was dead. The blood surrounding his pale face was starting to turn brown on the carpet, prompting her to find out the extent of his injuries. Peeling back the torn collar of his protective vest, she was greeted with a gut-churning wound that forced her to look away. His entire throat was torn to shreds. Teeth marks marred the deep, gouged opening, empty of meat and muscle. The bone at the back of his neck was snapped clean in two.

Bile rose to the back of her throat, bringing with it a pressure that could only mean she'd faint if she didn't calm herself. But she was devastated, and she wanted to do nothing more then bawl her eyes out. With her eyes closed she could gather her thoughts to keep herself from losing it. She had to accept that she couldn't fix this situation and could only blame herself wholeheartedly.

_Where was I when you were being murdered? _She bit her lip, finally finding the courage again to look at her deceased team mate.

It was then she noticed something protruding from the pocket sewn onto the knee of his pants. Some paper, a little bit ripped and yellowed, poked out towards her. Carefully, as if scared to disturb him, she reached over, plucking open the Velcro flap and retrieving the papers, unfolding them.

A picture fell out onto the floor. It was dirtied by mud and dust, but the image was still pretty clear to her. It was a stone wall, a glow by what could be firelight in the background. There were chains hanging behind the central pillars, which as the main eyepiece of the photo, depicting four very interesting carvings. Four faces, all distinguished by missing features. It suddenly reminded her of the crypt and the death masks. The piece of papers confirmed her thoughts, as the large, rushed text lay out a very interesting message:-

_To Anyone Left Alive,_

_The key out of here is in the crypt. You need each of the masks to fit the faces to unlock the next piece of the puzzle. I have the locations of the masks locked in my desk in…_

The bottom part was rubbed away, though she remembered Chris said he had a checklist for where to find them.

This was a new revelation. The masks were to go on the faces.

The excitement that was building in her was quickly subdued when she looked back at Kenneth. He'd managed to obtain this helpful information, and had been killed in the process. It didn't seem fair.

Not feeling quite so bold anymore, she took herself back to the medical room to wait for Chris's return. Her steps were not hurried, but she certainly didn't half her pace, even if she felt like she weighed a thousand tons.

She re-entered the room to how it previously was, all safe and quiet, with Richard sleeping peacefully. The worn medic trudged back to her chair and slumped back onto it. She let her body fall forward onto the bed, covering her face to stifle the sobs bubbling in the back of her throat.

Kenneth was dead. Another Bravo down. She had no clue where Enrico was, and couldn't determine if he was still alive now, or, like the rest of the team, had met a grizzly death. It was just her and Richard, and whomever else survived from the Alpha team. It was a piteous time.

She wanted to avoid focusing on her grief and ended up pacing the room from top to toe, picking over parts of the room she hadn't properly searched before. There was nothing of real interest to find, but anything could have been useful in that desperate time.

She was only partially keeping an eye on her watch, but she knew it had been a while since Chris had left the room. In the time she'd got back to the room, she'd again reorganised her medical bag, and had stocked up on things from the shelves, just to be on the safe side, while at the same time, had also kept a keen vigil at Richard's bedside, hoping he'd awaken soon.

A bad feeling curled inside her stomach, and she suddenly felt compelled to trudge back to where Richard had been attacked to see if Chris was there.

_I hope he hasn't got himself into trouble…_

Hurrying from the medical room, she headed upstairs and back around to the dining room. Just as she crossed over the upper balcony, she heard one of the doors open beneath her. She quickly leant over to see who it was, but the door slammed shut before she got a good look.

_Who was that? _She wondered. Enrico? Chris?

Though she didn't want to abandon her mission just yet and moved as quickly as she could, while remaining alert in the event an enemy tried to ambush her.

She'd been right about her bad feeling. Opening the door to the corridor below the attic, she was horrified to find Chris slumped on the hardwood floor, struggling to catch his breath.

"Chris! Oh no!" She attempted to help him up, but he was far too heavy for her. "What happened? Have you been bitten?"

He rose his left arm shakily to show her a bloody nick on his forearm. "It's only really a scratch… But I'm sure I'm poisoned." He groaned, leaning his throbbing forehead to the floor. "I need serum."

"Don't worry," she said, hurrying back up to her feet. "I'll go get it for you. Just hang in there, okay? I won't be long!"

She'd known this would happen, and he hasn't listened to her. With her heart racing, she ran back the way she'd come, pumping her legs as hard as she could so not to waste precious seconds. How long he's been on the floor, she couldn't guess, and didn't want to risk slowing down while his life was in great jeopardy.

She practically leapt down the stairs, skidding at the bottom as she swung herself back towards the medical room door, almost kicking it down as she barged back in.

The serum was in its usual place, returned after its prior use. She whipped it up, shoved it into her pack, and left the room again, slamming the door behind her. And back she went, racing to Chris's side, praying that she wouldn't encounter a zombie on the way. She certainly wasn't prepared to get into a fight with the undead.

She heard moaning distantly when she re-entered the 'U' corridor, but didn't think much to it. If it wasn't close to her then it wasn't her problem. She raced back into the next corridor and back through the door to where Chris was laid out.

With his obedience, she rolled him onto his back, taking his uninjured arm between her own. The veins at his elbow were still prominent under the skin, so she certainly wasn't going to have to waste time searching one out.

Grabbing a clean needle and the serum from her pack, she plunged the tip into the little bottle, taking out a good dose. She quickly swabbed his arm before sticking the needle in, emptying the antivenin into his body. Besides a hiss of pain from the needle going in, he didn't complain much.

After a moment, he seemed to become more lively and willing to sit up. Rebecca helped him rest back against the wall, focusing on cleaning up the fang scratch. Chris took slow, deep breaths, the colour coming back more and more to his previously pale cheeks. She placed a dressing on the wound and taped it down firmly.

"Man," he said, exhaling with relief. "That snake sure was an ugly bastard. Makes these masks look pretty." Rebecca finally noticed that he had procured another mask, which was at that time resting down on the floor beside him. This one had no nose.

She didn't want to say 'I told you so,' so rather just focused on making sure he was doing alright.

"How are you feeling now?" She enquired softly, resting a hand on his shuddering shoulder. He was still recovering himself after his near brush with death.

Definitely more composed then she would have been.

"Better. The pains going…" He began to pull himself by the wall, though did so slowly when he his legs didn't fully co-operate with him.

"Take it easy," she advised. "Don't push yourself."

"I'll be alright. Just need to catch my breath." Back on his feet, he carefully rolled his shoulders, loosening the knots that had built in the muscles. "Man, I don't get paid enough for this shit." The latter statement was somewhat light hearted.

"I know what you mean…" Now that she was in his presence again, and seeing the mask on the floor, she recalled her little find her earlier, at the expense of her fellow Bravo. "Oh, here," she said, handing over the pieces of paper and the photo. "This maybe helpful to you. I found them on Kenneth…" She looked down. "… He's dead."

Chris froze for the briefest of seconds before his shoulders slumped. He shook his head with disbelief. "I don't believe it… Not Kenneth too…"

She didn't know what else to say about his demise, instead focusing on her findings. "The picture indicates casts of the faces that may match the masks…"

"I think I remember seeing them," he said, looking at the photo. "Didn't pay much attention to it before." He looked up at her, giving a grateful nod. "Thanks for this. It's very helpful."

"Anytime."

Chris bent down and retrieved the mask from the floor, stuffing it in his pack along with its friend. "You should get back to Richard. I'll continue my investigation."

"Please be more careful. Next time, you might not be so lucky..."


	11. Chapter 11: Rise of the Fallen

**Hazard: Zero To One  
**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is __©__ to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**A/N: Been a month, and that's due to laziness as well as taking my time to write this chapter out. Also, just to note, my accuracy of item placement is not brilliant - some things I have made changes for just for the sake of the story - some might not notice anyway, but just for anyone who does. Anyway! Onwards with the story!**_  
_

**Chapter 11: Rise of the Fallen**

Stirring on the bed, Richard finally drew himself back to the land of the living. Not that there was much living going on around him. His head throbbed with the onset of a migraine, while the wound on his arm shot twinges of sharp pain up and down his arm with every heartbeat. The poison was long gone from his system, but his strength was still nigh on zilch. He needed more time to rest, but even he knew that he might not get it. But at that this point, he figured without trying he was really no good to anyone.

He heard the door open slowly, the creaking of the hinges almost stopping his heart. He turned his blurry eyes to see who the figure was, panicking at first because he wasn't able to focus properly; but it soon became clear who it was.

"Richard!" Rebecca's gleeful voice set his fear aside. She trotted over to the bed, sitting down on the very edge. "How are you feeling?"

"Sick…" His managed to say even with such a croaky voice. "Headache… Pain…"

"Shh… Just rest. Chris is taking care of things," she said, stroking his arm softly, "and then we'll finally be able to leave this nightmare."

He lifted his hand to lock around her elbow. "I… Don't want to be a burden to you…"

She shook her head profusely. "You're not a burden. As long as you rest, you'll be back on your feet in no time." Richard only managed a small nod before hissing with pain, turning his head to bury into the pillow.

She gently reached out and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of her glove. Her hand lingered, stroking his hair, whispering soft words of encouragement to him. After a short time, his pain subsided and he had soon managed to drop off to sleep. His frown was the only disclosure of his dark nightmares.

Rebecca watched over him silently, pitying the position he was in. Truthfully, it didn't help them in the least that he was recovering from a pretty nasty injury. Even so, she certainly wasn't going to leave him behind. As the wound was only on his arm, his condition at this time was not life threatening. It needed to be treated properly, maybe even stitched to prevent infection, but for now, as long as he took care of himself it would be fine.

She kept telling herself that as long as he could walk and fire a gun, he stood a chance.

As time passed, her mind drifted, wondering what would happen when they got back outside. Would it be easy to access the helipad? Could they find alternative transport if they couldn't manage to obtain a helicopter, or could they even get in contact with the Alpha team's pilot?

From what she'd been through thus far, nothing was ever going to be simple. She'd assured herself of it. Beyond that backdoor, she could predict there would be another maze of traps and puzzles, like some kind of psychotic video game. No way no how would this get any easier for them.

It was a while later, after a long time musing about her chances of escape and lingering solemnly on thoughts of her loved ones, that she began to fall asleep in her seat. Just as her eyes closed, a sharp albeit distant sound drew her back from the edge of slumber.

_What on Earth? _It sounded like a clock chime, though she couldn't be too sure. Seconds later, three more sounds, all distinctively different, clinking away louder then before. She quickly worked out what the sound was.

It was a piano.

_How odd… _Standing, she softly patted Richard's arm. "I'll just be gone a moment…" He didn't stir from his sleep to respond.

Gun out, she left the room.

The sounds kept coming, clanking clear and long as someone struck the keys with obvious inexperience. Following the sounds, she found herself back in the inner hallway just outside the dining room. The piano's stilted tune was chiming very stridently, coming directly from the only room down to the left of her.

She was cautious as she approached, opening the door after a moments hesitation.

The room was a small bar lounge - very nineteen forties by the interior décor. Aside the coating of dust, every surface seemed nicely polished and had a lingering scent of pine. The only room thus far that hadn't smelt of death. Right in the middle of the room stood a grand piano, a fine piece of craftsmanship, and low and behold, making an absurd amount of noise on it was Chris. His momentarily befuddled expression was suddenly replaced briefly with a look of surprise when he saw her walk through the door.

"Rebecca…" He'd given up his attempt at playing it. Silently, she was thankful he'd stopped abusing the poor instrument.

"What are you doing?" She asked curiously.

He scratched behind his ear, looking rather awkward. "Well…" She came to join him at the piano, looking down at the musical notes that were set on the stand.

"The 'Moonlight Sonata'," she said aloud to herself, holstering her gun. "I haven't heard this in a while."

"Can you play?" He asked.

She couldn't help but blush. Her skills on the piano were rather rusty, as she had proven the night before when she was with Billy. They'd unveiled a trap triggered when tickling the ivories. It had been down to the convict to uncover the secret room when her own attempt had been a rather embarrassing palaver. But something told her that the situation might be repeating itself in the way of secrets and puzzles, and she decided that she couldn't step down from a challenge.

"I'll have a go."

Chris stepped aside so she could take over at the head of the piano. She flexed her fingers, taking in a deep breath. She glanced over at her superior, who was leaning on the very edge of the lid. He offered her a smile, which she returned timidly. Eyes back to the music, she took in the printed notes and began to play.

To start with, it was promising. She was okay with the chords, but as the tune started to slip out of her control, she was suddenly barely holding the piece together. It had been years since she properly practiced. She'd stop learning just before she started going to college and most of what she'd learn had started to fade from memory. She slammed her hands on the keys, frustrated that now of all times she was beginning to forget a seemingly pointless skill that she actually found she needed to survive.

Aside her, Chris was cupping his face, somewhat amused by her performance. "What was that?"

She offered a nervous grin. "I guess my interpretation was off a little…" _A little? That was an absolute butchering! _She took a moment to look over the aging music sheets, feeling assured she could play it if she rehearsed it a few times. She was known for being a quick learner. "Would you mind if I practiced a while?"

"Knock yourself out. While you do that, I have a few things I want to check out. I'll be back soon."

"Okay." She watched after him as he left the room. When the door softly clicked shut, her eyes went back to the yellowing pages of music. She bit her lip, trying to conjure as much faith in her own abilities as she could. Though, after years without properly sitting in front of a piano, she was going to have to go with what she knew and hoped that she could come back up to par, or a level pretty close, to play the piece and unlock whatever it hid. That is, if it did. She could just end up playing for her jollies.

Luckily for her, she'd practiced 'Moonlight Sonata' a couple of times before she'd quit her lessons. Her music teacher had loved it and had played it to her on odd occasions along side many other beautiful classics. She knew the tune in her head, could even hum it off by heart, but actually being able to play it was a whole different story. But she had to have a crack at it, just to say she tried.

For a time, there was no other sound around her besides the loud echoes of her striking the keys according to the music sheet. The first few tries were not clean of mistakes, but as she practiced over and over, she began to see her faults and tackled the particular parts until she got the feel for it and started over to get it all down smoothly. It wasn't concert perfect, but it was certainly a nice rendition.

Taking a breather, she looked about the classic bar room retreat. How untouched it seemed, outside of the nightmare. There was still polish on the bar surface, besides a smudge where a glass had sat. There were plenty of bottles of expensive alcohol, mostly whiskey, sitting on the back shelf behind the bar. Her eyes caught her own reflection in the large back wall mirror.

Pale, gaunt and dirty.

_What was I expecting to see? A cheery beauty with bright eyes and rosy cheeks? _She looked away, letting her focus draw back to the piano, playing through parts of the music separately. She was still finding her poise to actually play it successfully altogether.

After some time, Chris finally returned, carrying a fresh stock of scavenged ammo, as well as a few leaves of Raccoon's own green herbs.

"Chris! I think I got it!" Was her eager greeting. She beckoned him over to the piano again to play audience to her performance. He took up his previous position leaning on the edge of the piano, nodding for her to play the 'Moonlight Sonata' for his personal scrutiny.

She aimed to please. This time, her rendition was softer and less jittery. She managed to avoid making the mistakes she'd done during her first go, and began to get into it, beaming with confidence as she hit the last ivory key, bringing an end to such a wonderful piece. Her smile was filled with pride for her own accomplishment.

_See, you've still got it!_

With last echo of the music fading, the wall to their left suddenly groaned and a section of it began to rise. They both turned with astonishment when they found a small passage revealed.

Chris was the first to step toward it, eyeing the new opening warily. He wasn't so keen to cross the threshold, even if the new passage revealed a dead end with a statue inset in the back wall. It was in the shape of a woman, completely made of stone, all aside a golden plaque imbedded into a slot in the base.

Rebecca stepped up behind him. It didn't look too dangerous inside, though from experience, looks could be deceiving. "A gold plaque," she regarded, being that it was the only interesting item she could see in the room.

Leaving her behind, he entered. His attention like hers was on the plaque. He crossed to the far side without a hitch.

No booby traps in the floor, no flying arrows of death from the walls, no crushing spikes coming down from the ceiling. Rather anti-climatic, but a big relief. Not that Rebecca was going to hold her breath. The gold plaque seemed strangely out of place. Dangerously alluring…

And Chris was certainly interested in it. He ran his hand over its smooth, cold surface. Impressed, he put a hand on either side and tugged on it. The plaque came free.

He turned, holding it up. "Well what d'ya kn-" A metallic clank sounded loudly and the wall previously blocking the opening quickly slammed shut.

Rebecca pounded her hands on the solid surface, panic rising in her chest. "Oh God! Chris!" When he didn't respond, she rushed back to the piano.

If it opened it once, it could open it again.

But she'd worked herself into such a state and all attempts to play the tune fell as flat as the rhythm she clanked out.

What if he ran out of air beyond the thick wall? What if the small space was closing up on him as she struggled to repeat the tune.

_PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER! NOW!_

Just as she was about to start again, the wall unexpectedly opened. It took her a few brief seconds to gather herself before she rushed over to the entrance, almost bumping into Chris as he was stepped out.

"Are you okay?" She fussed. "How did you get it to open?"

"I put the plaque back in the slot."

"Oh…"_Well, that was simple…_

"Listen, stay right here, I just need to get something. I'll be two minutes." He jogged from the room, leaving her to calm her racing heart. She wondered what he'd gone to get, and her eyes remained thoughtfully on the door for a moment before turning back to the small room suspiciously.

_What secrets are you hiding?_

Her attention was drawn to floor when she finally noticed a book strewn on its side against a filthy glass window. It was almost in the corner against the wall, so she'd missed it the first time around. Hesitating, she stepped inside, quickly making a grab for the book and stepping quickly back out again.

The red leather-clad book had the initials 'GT' printed in gold on the bottom corner. Flipping through the pages, she realised it was a diary; one written by the man who had designed the cursed mansion, George Trevor. He was talking about Spenser and his family - his wife and daughter, Jessica and Lisa. He was concerned because they were missing while staying at the mansion. Halfway through, Rebecca found that a lot of pages had been torn out, and whatever pages were left were simply blank.

"Odd…" She managed to fit the book into the back of her pack just as Chris re-entered the room. In his hands was another plaque, but this one was made of wood.

"Lets see how this works," he said ardently, re-entering the small inlet and heading over to the statue.

"Be careful," she muttered, stepping away from the entrance.

Again, Chris removed the golden plaque, and as before, the wall fell back into place. Moments later, it opened again, with the wooden plaque now placed in the indent on the statue. The Alpha member walked out proudly, the golden plaque tucked under one arm.

"Solved."

Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good to know. So, what are you planning on doing with that?"

"Well, I could sell it and make some hefty bucks, but I think I'll just complete the puzzle we've got going on here. Got that wooden one from the dining room. Now I've got to stick this back in its place and see what presents I receive."

"I should really get back to Richard," she cogitated. "Though I really don't want to leave you to do everything."

"It's okay. You've done a lot already." Chris headed towards the door, though just before he opened it, he turned back to the young nurse. "Listen, I'm close now to the last mask, so once I have it, I'll be heading down to the crypt. I'll report back as soon as possible. You guys just rest up for now."

"Right." He left her to absorb his words. They were getting closer to a means of escape. Well, she hoped it was one.

She lingered in the room for a short while longer, contemplating whether to take some alcohol back to perk Richard up a bit after he woke up, or maybe even to use as a weapon to toast any extra dangerous enemies. In the end, she took a bottle each of whisky and brandy, remembering to bring a shot glass before heading back to the medical room.

* * *

Aside the thrum of the powerful helicopter engine, there was nothing but silence. Brad Vickers dared only to breathe in the shortest most quietest breaths he could muster, with the fear that making a sound would draw attention to himself - even though he was far from the ground and his craft was making enough noise to pierce the dead of night.

He was a coward. Plain and simple.

Now that he was far from the scene, just a bare few miles from the flying over the city limits, he could finally admit that to himself. He swallowed back the feeling of guilt like a heavy, thorny lump, as the fear that had forced him to leave his comrades behind finally began to wane.

_Some S.T.A.R.S. member I make… _He sneered at his own reflection in the glass ahead of him. Why the hell had he even taken this job anyway? He feared death more then anything else in the world, and S.T.A.R.S. was all about putting oneself in the line of fire.

He blamed it on his hero-complex. There was a big part of him that wanted to be recognised as something great, praised for doing great deeds to society… But frankly, he proved many a time that he couldn't take the heat. And here again, he'd run at the first sign of trouble. Not very heroic at all.

Now, he was alone in the darkened cockpit, left to consider his comrades still stuck back out there in the forest - insufficiently armed and no medical supplies. After what he'd seen happen to Joseph…

He shook his head, his hands gripping the controls until his knuckles turned completely white.

_GET A GOD DAMN GRIP! LOOK WHAT YOUR COWARDICE HAS DONE! YOU'VE LEFT THEM OUT THERE TO DIE!_

He couldn't turn his back on them. They needed him, even after he'd left them. He was there last chance of survival.

"God damn it…" He circled around, turning his back of Raccoon City once again and flew back towards the landing area.

* * *

Rebecca jolted from her idle daydream when the door suddenly burst open. She was up from her chair, reaching for her gun. But as she tugged it from her holster, the grip slipped away from her sweaty fingers and she ended up juggling the weapon before it fell to the floor. Within which time, she discovered the person who had entered the room was not an enemy at all.

Lucky for her.

The woman before her, clad in blue t-shirt and pants, lowered her weapon when she too realised that Rebecca was not a foe. She sighed, straightening up and wiping the sweat budding from beneath the trim of her beret.

Rebecca knew who she was. She was one of the few members of Alpha team she'd had the time to acquaint with. She watched her colleague adjusting the rough straps to her leather and Kevlar-lined shoulder pads, gladdened to see her current state was good. She didn't appear to be injured in any way.

Now relaxed, she reached down to retrieve her fallen gun.

"Boy am I glad to see someone else alive in this mad house," the newcomer, Jill Valentine voiced, positively elated.

"Its good to see you. I was getting worried."

Jill smiled. "Its okay. Don't worry too much about me." Her gaze went past Rebecca to Richard asleep on the bed. "Is he okay?"

Rebecca turned to look at her fellow Bravo, nodding in his direction. "Yeah. He's just resting until he gets his strength back."

Jill went to take up seat on top of the corner trunk, slipping a fairly hefty weapon off of her shoulder. Rebecca hadn't really noticed it before, but as she watched it set to the ground, she felt her heart catch in her throat.

It was a grenade launcher. It was scuffed and someone splattered with blood that had dried a while ago. It looked a lot like Forest's weapon.

"That…" Rebecca found she couldn't continue, and instead sunk into her seat.

Jill looked from the weapon back to the young medic, her face solemn. "I found Forest. He was…" She too suddenly lost the words to speak.

Rebecca nodded. She'd figured long before now that he was dead. His wounds had been too severe to survive without immediate hospital treatment. It hurt more now that it was cemented as truth, but she refused to cry anymore. He wouldn't have wanted that.

"Do you know where the rest of your team is?" Jill eventually asked after a moments silence.

"Edward's dead, Kevin's dead, Kenneth's dead…" The words lacked emotion, more for the fact the poor medic was mentally drained from it all. "I don't know about the Captain. He's missing."

"Things aren't going well on our side either. Captain Wesker disappeared from the main hall after we first got here. Joseph was killed by those dogs roaming outside…"

Rebecca recalled an image of a blonde man, always in a bandana. Joseph Frost. He'd been a member of Bravo team before his promotion to Alpha team. She'd filled the spot he'd vacated. There were a couple of times she'd spoken to him, but not many. He'd seemed like a pretty nice guy. Funny, witty albeit a little over-zealous. It was a big shame what had happened to him. Nobody should have had to suffer that kind of death…

"Barry is on the other side of the mansion investigating."

"Barry?"

"Barry Burton. Our back up man." Jill sniffed, pushing her hair behind one ear. "I'm sure you'll meet him… If things don't go wrong." Rebecca simply nodded. "And Chris… We lost him outside. I don't know where he is…"

"It's okay," Rebecca assured. "I've seen Chris." Jill's face lit up with surprise. "He's trying to find a safe way out of here. The last thing he told me was that he was heading down to the crypt out back."

Jill screwed up her face with repulsion. "Crypt… God, and I didn't think this house could get anymore sinister…" The thought dropped very quickly as she considered Chris, gladdened to the point of needing to cry that he had made it to safety. Not that it was anymore safe in the mansion then outside.

"What do you plan to do now?" Rebecca enquired, all ears.

"Well, I should go back and rendezvous with Barry in the main hall. We agreed to check in after looking around the ground floor area."

"I should stay here," Rebecca opted. "In case Chris comes back."

"I'll tell Barry where you guys are," she said, standing. "We'll come back and join up."

"Alright. Please take care."

"I will, I promise." Jill lugged the grenade launcher back on her shoulder. Giving Rebecca a somewhat playful salute, she exited the room.

Richard seemed to stir for a moment on the bed, but instead rolled over and continued to snooze peacefully.

"I wish I were you right now," she mumbled to him, sinking to her knees at the edge of the mattress. "I want to sleep through this nightmare too… And wake up back in my own bed."

She closed her eyes, leaning forward to press her forehead to his warm arm. It wasn't just them alone now. They had Chris. They had Jill. They may even have Barry too. Both team Captains were out of the picture for now, but she tried not to lose hope for them.

She was good at waiting, but it wasn't like she enjoyed it. Patience was suppose to be a virtue, but then again, patience had never come face to face with the living dead.

It was just impossible to retain composure and sit on the sidelines.

Considering the amount of time it had been since she'd come back from the lounge bar, Chris had not made another appearance to update her on the situation like he had promised.

_Its about time you put yourself back in the field. You've survived this far… _Her inner pep talk seemed to kick her into gear as she picked herself up, dusted off her clothes and checked her ammo situation. All good for now.

Pulling a piece of paper from the back of the typewriter, she hunted out a pen and wrote a quick message down on paper for Richard. She stuck it between the alcohol bottles and shot glass, mentioning for him to have one if he felt he needed it - to lift his spirits.

She left the room thereafter, climbing the stairs and heading around to the metal door that led out onto the balcony. She followed that around instead of using the dining room, which was still occupied by a zombie. She could see it through the stain glass window ass she passed by - It was standing not too far from the other door leading to the stairwell. Using the far door on the other side of the balcony, she exited back into the main hall.

_Now, where to go from here…_ She didn't have a clue how to get out to the cemetery where the crypt was located. Chris had accessed it by jumping the back fence when he'd escaped the dogs but hadn't mentioned how he'd got into the mansion afterwards. She'd wished she'd asked him now.

One idea she thought of was to jump over the wall out on the walkway to the sealed back door and scale the perimeter until she found her way to the cemetery. But considering the dogs still roaming around in a huge pack, it was a treacherously stupid idea to try her luck.

While still in thought, she moved around to the upper walkway before the stairs. Notably, she could feel a draft on her arms, though hardly considered it as headed for the left-hand stairs, not having noticed that the far door on the right, out into the eastern balcony was partially open…

Sighing, Rebecca trudged down the steps, frustrated with the fact she had no clue where to go next. It felt like she was just wandering around, chasing shadows, hoping that the next person she would find would be alive. It was all the more frustrating that neither Jill and the other guy she mentioned, Barry, weren't there either. Weren't they suppose to be meeting there?

_Or Jill could be searching for him? They might end up back here… Well, possibly…_

She stopped above the final set of steps descending into the bottom of the hall, allowing herself to slump back against the wall there. But as she did so, her hand banged something slightly protruding. It was hard enough to jolt a sharp hiss of pain from her lips.

She retraced her hand, turning to the offending object first with annoyance, and then with utter surprise. A brass door handle.

"A door?" She muttered aloud, taken by disbelief as she stepped back to inspect the so-called 'wall'. The painting on it was remarkable. Old world figures on a scenic countryside background. Very detailed, very beauty… But also, very deceptive. If she hadn't been focusing on hard enough, she'd have missed the outline of the door in the darker parts of the painting.

_It's a start! _Her throbbing hand gripped the cold handle, just about to twist it, when unexpected footsteps turned her right around. She couldn't see anyone, even as the slow footsteps echoed around her. Swallowing, she moved over to the very top step. "Jill?" She called out. "… Barry?"

Momentarily the footsteps stopped. Rebecca didn't move to go see who was below her. She had a very bad feeling…

Again, the movement came, and eventually a figure emerged from the shadows beneath the stairs, lumbering forward breathlessly into the orange glow of the candle lit room.

Rebecca's jaw dropped opened, eyes widening in abject horror. The figure turned as he came within inches of the bottom of the stairs.

"Forest… No…"

She guessed this would happen - in fact, predicted it. It was just like what happened with Edward.

Forest's white-filmed eyed gazed up in her direction. The bandages she'd wrapped him with were no longer there, subjecting her to the awful extent of his injuries. The wound to his arm, his side and especially his face, the latter of which only strings of flesh covered the left side of his mouth. All were caked over in dried blood, matted in clumps that were already starting to rot.

There was no remembrance in his eyes. The virus stole the soul of whoever it infected. Took away the humanity, striped a being down to the most primal of creatures.

All that was left of her once loyal comrade was a hungry killer.

She felt like she was reliving her encounter with Edward, in that small jittery railway carriage. There was the same amount of pain in her chest, maybe even more, and the fear of what she knew she had to do. She put a bullet through Edward's brain, to release him from his endless limbo, but not without great hesitation. And as she reached for her gun now, listening to Forest's mindless moan, she didn't know where she'd draw the strength to do the same thing again.

But as she was drawing the gun from the holster, he did something she hadn't expected.

He ran at her.

* * *

**A/N: To be continued in the next chapter...**


	12. Chapter 12: Evil Residence

**Hazard: Zero To One  
**

**By. Indigo Siren**

**Disclaimer: Resident Evil is ****©**** to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved.**

**A/N: Its been way too long! But I was having trouble putting the chapter together. Got my ending first, then the beginning - which really did take a few goes to get right. I just kept changing my mind how to handle it. And everything else slotted in over time and effort. Apologises for keeping you waiting.**

**Also, I will have to go back and correct a few mistakes I've come to notice in previous chapters. Heh, I'm never happy with what I've done...**

**Chapter 12: Evil Residence**

_This can't be real. It can't be… Its just a horrible nightmare. I'll wake up soon, and I'll see everyone again. They'll all be fine. They'll all be alive!_

The brilliance of the swirling colours behind her closed lids drew her to the realisation that she was regaining consciousness; from a sleep she hadn't realised she'd taken. Flinching, her stomach queasy, she moved her hands. They brushed across the gritty floor - cold, hard - _very_ real.

And suddenly, memories came crashing down on her.

_Oh God, what have I done?_

Images rewinding in the front of her mind were stark and clear, recollected from only a short while earlier.

_Why you, Forest? Why did it have to happen to you__…_

With the world shut out, she relived the horrible moments in perfect clarity…

_Previous events…_

Unalike other zombies she'd faced, Forest's dexterity had not been too badly effected by his transformation into the undead. He was fresh. New. Only just beginning in the very early stages of decomposition. Thus he still retained the muscle mass, unlike most of the other resident zombies.

It explained why he was charging at her like an Olympic sportsman.

As he lurched forward, arms reaching out to grab a hold of Rebecca, she'd thrown herself out of his line of attack. She took an arm's length of carpet burn in the process, but she'd hardly noticed her bleeding arm as she'd scrambled for the stairs. It didn't take him long to get right back on her tail.

She hadn't known what the hell to do next. She couldn't have out run him, he was too fast. Her artful dodging wasn't helping her all that much. Whichever way she leapt and dived, he was right there within an inch of grabbing her. And what of shooting him?

Memories of the exact same situation with Edward had run across her tormented mind. In the narrow space of the Ecliptic Express train car, she'd prayed for the lost pilot's soul as her finger hit the trigger. It had been hard to turn off her emotions as she'd raised her Beretta on a man, who only hours ago, had been smiling and offering her comforting words of support for her first mission. Hearing the bullets fire from the gun barrel had seemed louder then usual as they thudded with a meaty crunch into his dull, grey flesh. The final shot had hit home straight through his left temple.

She'd had no time to mourn for him. The train had been on a collision course with disaster and she'd had to move; to prevent herself and Billy being sent to a fiery death. Even with her efforts, she'd barely survived the train's derailment, though it had drawn her mind away from her previous actions.

And there she'd been again, as if by punishment, having to go through it all, but replacing Edward with Forest. It had broke her heart to even think of pulling her gun again on another of her comrades. Not only was she scared to lose her sanity over repeating the same deed, but she wasn't in the same easy position to simply shoot. Forest was chasing her like a mad man. He would have grabbed her before she could even get off a shot.

She'd run from one length of the upper balcony to the other, fighting her indecision and ducking and diving from his attempted grappling. Eventually, she'd trampled back down the stairs, turning to descend into the hallway below. On the last few steps, she'd tripped and fallen, hitting the marble floor hard enough to knock the wind out of her.

Momentarily breathless, she felt all hope was lost. In her ears his thunderous footsteps echoed above her on the walkway, and then on the stairs; and then there he was, staggering down the steps like an eagle swooping down on its prey.

She'd rolled at the last second and stuck out her leg, cracking him in the back of the knee. He'd gone down like a ton of bricks, buying her time to get away. But all she'd done was stand up and stare at him as he'd slowly rose back up.

She knew it was her duty as friend and comrade to put him out of his misery. From her very short time in S.T.A.R.S, it had felt presumptuous to have considered herself truly his friend, but certainly his last few words to her before his humanity had faded had been something that could have only been trusted to the ears of a friend.

Slowly, she'd backed off as he turned slowly, locking back onto his target. This time he hadn't been quite so quick to chase her, limping quite prominently in his pursuit.

Her backward movement had put her past the staircase, and right into the mouth of the cold grey corridor hiding behind it. At that last moment, he'd pitched forward, his cold fingers digging into her shoulders. At the same time, she'd brought the gun up.

He'd moved forward fast, mouth gaping ready to latch down onto her face, but the gun lodged right against his throat had held him off.

His momentum had pushed her backwards, and in the following few seconds, her foot had slipped off the edge of the step descending into the corridor, and they'd both fallen. She knew she'd lose the gun and her life if she didn't act now. So, as the world seemed to go in slow motion - staring into his dead eyes, she pulled the trigger.

_I__'__m so sorry__, Forest. Please forgive me…_

The exiting wound was like a firework display of blood, flesh and bone. It all sprayed out in thick globules, hitting the walls and floor in splashes of red. She'd managed to get off another shot before she'd hit the floor - this time, the hit had gone under the chin after the previous action had pushed her aim up. Another bullet to seal his fate.

Hitting the concrete, his body had writhed on top of her. With one last groan, Forest had fallen silent.

This time, he was truly dead.

Rebecca, dazed and sickened, had struggled to get him off her. After minutes of desperate shoving, she'd managed to wriggle free of him, gasping desperately for breath as her lungs burned from the excursion. The shock from the events had been enough to cause her to black out.

But now she was wide awake again but afraid to open her eyes to face what she'd done.

"Rebecca! Where are you? REBECCA!"

Forcing herself to acknowledge the world around her, she opened her eyes. And there was Forest as expected, lifeless in a pool of his own blood. Of course, it hadn't been him that had shouted to her - he was dead… again. She was too numb to admonish herself for such a ridiculous notion.

"REBECCA!" The voice came again louder and much more desperate.

_I feel strange… _Her head was throbbing heavily. Her stomach was still doing loop de loops after coming down from her fear-induced adrenaline rush. The owner of the voice came into the entrance of the corridor she was sprawled in, but she seemed to block his presence out as she stared at the dead man blankly, trying to gather her fleeted senses and fight off the tears all at the same time.

_So this is shock…_

She jolted as she was lifted from the ground into a sitting position. Forest's pale, rotting face was replaced instead by Richard's. Warm and alive.

She stared at him in disbelief.

"Oh God, Rebecca, you're alright!" Her response was to turn to the side and throw up the stale water previously churning at the bottom of her stomach. "Hey now," he soothed, rubbing her back. "Its okay. I'm here."

Richard's hand rubbed across the middle of her back and small relaxing motions - his kindly offer of comfort as she regained her composure. Not that she felt all that much better. She was left with a splitting headache and a sore stomach.

On shaky hands, she pushed herself back up, with the intention to turn around again, but was abruptly stopped firmly by her comrade's hand still at her back. Her eyes floated up to his face. His clear blue eyes had turned away sadly.

"Don't look."

"I know…" Her voice came out small. Guilty. "… I know he's there. I…"

He pressed her into a supportive hug. "Don't. You know its not your fault." He had to take a breath before he could carry on, just to avoid his voice cracking up. "It was the only thing you could have done for him."

"It shouldn't…" Her slender hand slapped the ground. "… I didn't have to end this way. If only I'd…"

"Now's not the time to think about the 'what ifs'." Softly, his hands began to lift her up. She didn't resist. It was hard at first to get back to her feet; her knees felt like lead weights, but she forced herself to stand and follow his lead.

"Come on," he appeased. "Lets go back into the hall."

A part of her wanted to look down at Forest. Down at the man she had put an end to with a bullet to the brain. But Richard had pressed her head against his chest fairly firmly, so all she could do was look forward and grimace as she stepped over a thick puddle of blood.

It felt wrong to leave their fellow Bravo there, face down unceremoniously in his own blood. So demeaning to such a good man. But it wasn't as if they could stop the horror for a moment just to bury him. It was going to stay with her for a while, the image of his last resting place - a dismal little corridor behind a staircase.

Richard aimed her towards the staircase, where she decided to take up seat. She shook, angry with herself, but a little also with the other people around her. Where were Jill and Barry? Why hadn't they come back together? And Chris? Was he still in that damned Crypt?

_What a great team we make…_

So caught up in her thoughts, she jumped when Richard's hand rested on her shoulder, rubbing softly where the tension had built up. She started to relax, letting go of her foolish irritation.

"Don't frown so hard," he said, offering her the warmest smile he could, despite looking like hell.

She sighed, not able to offer much of a smile of her own. "I guess I'm just thinking too hard. A bad habit of mine."

He sat down beside her, at the same time, removing a handful of crumpled papers from the large pocket at the knee of his combat pants. He offered them to her, having to shake them to draw her attention.

"Chris dropped by while I was still out," he said as she unfolded the yellowed sheets. "He left us a trail to follow."

The top sheet was an aging print of a map showing a birds eyes view of a courtyard. On top of it were penned notes that she guessed were written by Chris. He'd painted out a route that started from the back of the house, across two upper and lower sections of a courtyard and ending at what was marked as 'second residence'.

She swapped the sheets around, finding a note written by Chris.

'_Found the 'key' to the back door in the crypt. Nothing else useful down there. Went out the back - found this map inside the other place. Going to investigate the area. Follow when you can.'_

"Why didn't he wait?" Rebecca questioned with an annoyed bleat. "He's already had a brush with death once. What does he hope to achieve by himself?"

"That's Chris for you," Richard answered, even finding some humour behind it all despite the situation. "Always rushing off playing the hero, feeling like he needs to protect everyone and do all the hard work himself. Yeah, seems a little stupid and big-headed, but I certainly wouldn't have him any other way." His expression softened. "I respect him a lot and trust his judgment more then I have done with a lot of people. Hey, he's not right all the time, but he's lived up until now, continuously putting his life in danger." He stood, taking back the papers from her. "Though, I would feel better watching his back."

"Yeah…" She looked up at his resolute expression and nodded, standing herself. Her hands tightened around the gun. "Lets go after him."

In the back of her mind, she thought about Jill and wondered how she was coping. Was she alive? Was she dead? Did she meet with Barry? Did she find her Captain? As much as she wanted to go running around the mansion to find her, there was a chance they'd found an escape route. If they could secure it, then certainly she could come back and look for their fellow Alpha team comrades, and maybe even their own Bravo Captain.

It was a big risk. They could be ambushed trekking into unknown territory through the back door. But the mansion itself was still a big risk, no matter how many times they ran back and forth. Places that seemed safe at one time would suddenly turn into no mans' land. There was always something else to jump out at them with a thirst for blood.

For now, they had a plan. They were going after Chris.

And they were praying to God he was still alright.

* * *

Bursting through the shadows of the Arklay Forest, a sheer white beam scoped the surrounding landscape, courtesy of the Alpha team helicopter as it hovered just above the trees. The sheer magnitude of the whirling blades agitated lines of shrubbery, making everything seem more alive then it really was.

Brad was shaking in his seat, watching the lifeless forest below him in hopes of finding signs of life. For what seemed like a lifetime he'd been trailing back and forth, slowly scouting each square inch of land, hoping he had come across the original landing site. Right now, he wasn't too sure about anything. Everything looked the same.

The light pierced the darkness - let him see the emptiness, the absolute nothingness… Life didn't seem to exist in this world beyond the glass. The only movement came from the chopper.

Where could his team mates have gone? Had they survived against those strange creatures?

He couldn't find a single body to name, which was a good sign, but it still didn't make him feel any better. They could still be alive out there, but for how much longer?

He had the greatest means of escape and had cruelly snatched it from them when they needed it the most.

For now, he had to swallow his shame and be a man. He kept up his fine tooth comb search, all the while missing the mansion due south east from his position…

* * *

_Back here again…_

Rebecca's original hope for the room beyond the back door had already been dashed by Chris's little map. She'd been hoping to find a van, a car, or maybe even at least, a bike - some mode of transportation they could have used to escape with. But as the door swung back, it was as she had been ready to expect; another false hope of hers. Even with already knowing this would be the outcome, she still fell disappointed.

The room was nothing more then a large shed with stacks of plant pots, rusty tools and empty paint cans. There were two ways to exit; one down a set of stairs out a small side door, or just forward of them out a pair of large wooden double doors. According to Chris's map, the double doors were the way to go.

Richard patted her on the back and headed to the door, shotgun at the ready. With a heavy groan, the doors unlatched and he pushed one outward into the open night. There was no breeze to greet them, only the sounds of crickets and a hungry howl from the forest afar.

Rebecca swallowed a thick lump and followed Richard's cautious footsteps into the world beyond.

She froze mid-step when she gazed upon the curled up dog corpse not even a few steps away from the doors. And beyond that, another fallen beast. And another. All were downed by devastating gun shot wounds to the head.

The smell of death was pungent to the point of sickness. Rebecca had to fight not to wretch.

Richard whistled at the carnage. "Looks like Chris threw us some breadcrumbs."

"Great…" Ignoring the dead animals, Rebecca inspected the fairly picturesque yard.

It resembled an old English terrace only found on the grounds of distinguished manors. On the wall, Victorian style lamps encompassing waning bulbs spread a very scarce amount of light over the small space. But even with the slight glow emanated, the yard seemed to bask proudly under the delicate warmth of yellow, highlighting softly on the gorgeous engraved pillars right in the middle. The Greek style columns were intertwined with ivy that had long ago been left untamed, but it just seemed to make it more perfect.

It would have been more beautiful without the doom and gloom and the smatterings of dead dog.

Rebecca turned when she noticed Richard was not behind her and took a step back, looking in the direction of a small alley off to the left. He was simply glancing about the stacks of broken garden tools, looking for anything worth using. When he noticed her waiting for him, he just smiled and shrugged, stepping back her way.

"Map says that way," she said, indicating to the iron gates across the way, just up a set of steps.

"I'll go first."

She didn't argue, instead, watched their backs as they advanced towards the semi-rusted gates. Richard scurried up the steps, taking hold of the stiff latch, which refused to budge with the first few attempts of opening it.

And in those few prolonged seconds, the hurried clack of claws echoed viciously in the empty yard. Rebecca whirled around. Trying to pinpoint over the barrel of her Beretta, she scanned back and forth quickly over the yard. She couldn't see it, but she could hear it.

And it was moving fast.

An echoing growl acutely drew her in the right direction. To the right and up. Just on top of the wall, another rotting hellhounds. One Chris had missed.

Skinned legs, half its face just glistening bone. Its teeth snapped hungrily. It was getting ready to attack.

She gasped. "We've got company!"

Richard opened the gate and turned, just as the beast dove from the wall.

Rebecca opened fire. The first missed by a long shot. The second and third struck its putrid flank, spraying decay onto the stony veranda. A shot from Richard's more powerful weapon just managed to hit its hind quarters, sending the beast tumbling, thus giving Rebecca more time to effectively aim on the downed creature and a plant a bullet between its milky eyes.

And everything was once again in a state of eerie calm.

Rebecca sighed. "Always has to be one more…"

Richard nodded in reply and motioned her towards the gate. "Come on, before we attract anymore unwanted guests." She wasted no time in dashing up the steps.

Now with the gate closed between her and the 'graveyard' of dogs, she felt a little better.

Crossing damp cobblestones, she found herself staring down over the ledge of an empty pool. It hadn't looked like it had been that way for all too long. Another effort by Chris no doubt, she guessed.

The arrows on the map pointed across and around. There was a walkway at the bottom of the pool with a ladder at each end. Richard was already making his way down, prompting the younger Bravo to quickly followed, minding not to slip in her descent.

From one side to the other, they hurried, heels clacking loudly in an echoing unison off of the walls surrounding them. Both didn't want to spend a second longer in there then needed be, just in case bizarrely, the iron shutter slammed down and the pool filled up with them still inside it. With the kind of things going on around them, it didn't seem all that strange an idea.

Climbing out the other side, the narrow path turned off to the left in a 'Z' shape, heading over to a wooden bridge crossing the raging falls below.

Rebecca was just taking a step forward when something hefty plopped onto her shoulder. She turned, gaping as a little green adder hissed at her face. She whacked it off with a wide-eyed shriek. Richard turned to her, just at the same time one landed on his head. His cry was more horrified as he grabbed its tail and swung it off into the shrubbery lining the path.

Angry hisses, doubling in their sum, were coming from above their heads. Rebecca slowly looked up into the over hanging trees, to see what was literally hundreds of little heads, fangs glistening.

And suddenly, it was raining snakes.

"RUN!" She cried and took off in a frightful sprint towards the bridge.

"GOD DAMN FUCKING SNAKES!" She heard Richard declare with enraged aversion.

Rebecca squeaked as multitudes of slimy adders fell into her path. She was forced to leap and bound hurriedly in all directions to avoid slipping on them. Leaping snakes were coming at her, from the left, the right, the back and front. She was lucky that her frantic weaving and bobbing thus far had avoided her getting bitten.

Across the bridge, there was a small path leading straight up to an old elevator. She darted swiftly onto the mud-slopped platform and turned just as Richard bounced in, kicking away a springing snake.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" He breathed, leaning onto the back bar breathlessly, hesitating on the trigger of his powerful weapon. The hordes of adders now swarmed the path and were heading their way in rapid accordance. They couldn't waste another second. These little snakes were deadly poisonous…

Rebecca turned to the control panel. The green light above the battery meter was on, indicating it was ready for use.

"Hurry, Rebecca!" They were almost upon them…

There were only a couple of buttons mounting the panel face, and it didn't take her a few seconds to stab down the bottom red button. The elevator beeped and jolted before beginning its descent.

The walkway quickly disappeared, as did the adders. They were a mere breath away from the tiny heads before they disappeared below the line of the upper walkway. They both slumped forward, sighing with relief.

Richard wiped away the cold sweat beaded on his temples. "What is it with the snakes around here? Do I have an 'EAT ME' sign on my back?"

Rebecca hummed a slight chuckle. "Not our day for animals."

"I am never, ever going near a petting zoo again…"

The elevator platform finally came to rest in the courtyard below. The loud echo of water reverberated around them from a waterfall pouring down from a large rock face. Stepping out, guns ahead, they found themselves in a very similar setting to the previous yard, though this two-levelled one had once been a more glamorous sight - though that was before the plant life was left to overgrow and moss brought on by the damp coated everything in sight.

Rebecca curiously stepped down a set of steps under a stone archway. Her echoing footfalls disturbed a gathering of crows, which squawked angrily and took off in a fluttering horde. Rebecca jumped back a step, hand to her heart pounding away at a lightning rate.

A mossy fountain sat before her, lonely without the surrounding flock of birds picking away at its aging hide. It was crumbling away into disuse, the spitting fish on top far beyond working - clogged up completely. 'Dead' in its own sense.

As she came to stand beside the slimy edge, her curious eyes peered in and recoiled with great disgust at the sight of a severed arm sat on a bed of sludge. It had been there a while, free to rot and fester a colony of maggots. The skin and muscle had been picked at, torn and chewed on by little mouths. Maybe even the birds…

"Anything useful?" Richard was still standing on the steps, scanning the area edgily.

"No." She swallowed the bile and turned away. "Nothing at all." She rejoined her companion and the pair exited the 'lost paradise' through the far gate, as instructed on the map.

Insects buzzed around loudly in the night air, fluttering over small lamps imbedded into the stone walls, but their glimmer was faded due to the plant life curling around the glass covers like thick blankets.

The eerie passage sharp turned left, then right, before finally running straight up to the back entrance of a building.

They'd made it.

"Finally," Rebecca muttered with relief.

Richard took a hold of the door handle. "Lets hope Chris is close by." Rebecca nodded and he pulled it open. Tepid, stale air leaked out.

It didn't bode well.

The creaky wooden door shut behind them with a hollow clunk, echoing off the walls ominously. Wind breezed through cracks in the aging structure, whistling a perilous tune. This place appeared ten times creepier then the mansion. Cramped, cobwebbed, dank… And very, VERY quiet. Rebecca hated that last fact the most.

In the medic's line of sight was a small alcove just beyond a turn into the first main corridor. Potting equipment, rusted from excessive use, were stacked haphazardly into a corner gathering dust. Aside those, were a line of shelves where a few plant pots were sat, containing some strangely blue-tinted plants. They interested the young medic - they must have had helpful properties, just like the Raccoon grown green herbs. She stole a few leaves, sniffing them. The smell reminded her of menthol. She stored them in her pack.

"So, this is it, huh?" Richard finally spoke. He was stood at the entrance to the lonely corridor, faced only with a multitude of wooden doors, a cracked floor and the echoing of his own voice bouncing back in his face.

Rebecca moved to join the uneasy observation. "I wonder where Chris is? He couldn't be too far."

"Depends how big this place is."

He was right. This place could have been just as much of a maze as the mansion, with just as many tricks and traps. Which door to choose was their first priority. In the left and right walls just a few steps away were single doors. The one on the left had a brass plate reading '001'. The right one was unmarked. At the far end of the corridor was a set of red double doors. There was another passage on a right turn just before the double doors - with how many more doors, they could only guess.

"Well, let's just see what's through door number one." Richard took hold of the handle to the right-hand door. Cautiously opening it, they were met by the distant howls of some very hungry canines drifting in on the wind. They were near enough outside again in a confined shed-type room. The inner part was under shady cover, while the outer was bathed in moonlight. It looked relatively safe by the high walls surrounding it.

There wasn't much to view. Old grimy garden furniture and lines of dusty shelves covered in random odds and ends. It was pretty much what it was. An old storage room.

Rebecca lifted a spray can of weed killer from the shelf. It didn't have much use. She doubted zombies would react to it. She set it back amongst the other oddments - an old lighter, a typewriter's ink ribbon and a packet of multicoloured rubber bands.

"Nothing much here," she voiced, nodding to her companion. Satisfied with their scrutiny, they left.

A loud thump echoed just after they closed the door. Both froze immediately.

Richard levelled his weapon. "Where did that come from?"

It came again. Rebecca's ears deciphered it to be coming from the direction of the double-doors, though she couldn't be a hundred percent sure.

"Down there!" She pointed, taking up the front, weapon aimed in the direction of the doors. Each stepped creaked on the worn floorboards, taking away any element of surprise. Chewing her lip, she kept her finger hesitant over the trigger.

She came into the line of sight of the second corridor. She glanced down, observing multiple holes in the floor, a stack of crates and one singular door, just hidden around the other side.

She turned her attention back to the door, breathing out a sigh of relief… which was suddenly trapped in her throat. Something had struck her hard and fast, and had a tight grip around her slender throat, lifting her effortlessly off of her feet. Whatever it was started to thrash her around.

Choking and trying to cry for help, she struggled against her attacker. When hauled overhead, she soon discovered that the 'thing' that had a hold of her was a lengthy vine. All with a mind of its own.

She couldn't believe it - she was going to be choked to death by a plant.

In the process of her frantic movements, the gun fell from her hand.

"Richard!"

"Rebecca! Hold on!" He disappeared from her line of sight. She figured she wouldn't have that for much longer the way it was squeezing her.

More vines were slinking out from under the floor boards, trying to reach out for her, to entangle her in a grip of death. She couldn't scream.

Couldn't breath…

And suddenly, they were set ablaze. She could feel the fire to her skin - fierce and hot.

_Fire! But how?_

Tipped upside down by the thrashing vine-like tentacle, she could see her fellow Bravo armed with the weed killer and the lighter. A make-shift flame thrower. And it was working - the vines were retreating and the one that had hold of her was loosening its grip, allowing sweet oxygen to fill her lungs.

Just before the vine retreated along with its comrades, it tossed her away. She glanced the wall, most of the impact taken by her back and head. Hitting the ground, she was already out cold.

* * *

**A/N: Not good for Rebecca. She's spending a lot of time unconscious, poor girl... Next chapter coming soon...**


	13. Chapter 13: Sweet Sorrow

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**A/N: Maybe one of these days I can write a chapter and not have problems putting it together. Oh, and this one is another one of my emotional segments, which is a lot easier on my brain.**

**Chapter 13: Sweet Sorrow**

In the tormented recesses of her mind, Rebecca could see nothing aside the rain of blood hammering down in suffocating shower. It poured in icy abundance across her pale skin, drawing goose-pimples wherever it touched. Droplets splattered and passed her lips, tightening her throat as the bitter coppery fluid rolled across her tongue. She was cold, exhausted and choking. And there was nobody to save her from the red death ready to claim her life.

Distantly, she could hear cries of agony but could not see a single soul within the pitiful crimson landscape. She wept bitterly, falling to her knees as her strength gave out. Blood filled her eyes, blinding her and shattering whatever hope she had left for survival.

Just when she was about to give up, gentle but firm arms took hold of her, sharing warmth with her freezing body. Rebecca instantly drew in against the person, not caring who it was. They felt safe. Warm.

She held onto them as tight as humanly possible. Please don't go. Please don't leave me alone.

The maddening world of blood faded away, replaced by the comfort of reality. Anything was better then being taunted by her own psyche.

As she returned to the waking world, the warmth lingered on like a nice blanket - for the fact that she was in close contact to another body, letting her rest in the comfort of their lap.

The tepid temperature of the room didn't bother her in the least, the body heat alone emanating from her protector brought colour back into her pale face. She opened her jade eyes slowly, blinking away the blur while at the same time adjusting to the dim lighting of the room. Eventually, her cleared vision was greeted with the image of Richard's face, leaning over her.

He was the one offering her a lap, keeping her safe and warm. His hand softly came to rest on her forehead, carefully brushing aside the untamed fringe from her sweat-dampened temples. The relief that showed up on his face, took her breath away.

He'd lit up the moment she'd laid eyes on him. For now, there was nothing else but her and him. Reprieved from the horror.

"You saved me…" She groggily muttered, feeling the sudden urge to cry with happiness. She wasn't alone in this nightmare.

"You had me worried there," he said, his hand moving from her hair to rest against her cheek. "I thought you were gone."

"Me too." She remembered the vines rising from the cracks in the floor, trying to choke the life out her. For a moment, she'd thought it was the end of the road. That finally her luck had run out. But it was thanks to this man that she was still there. "I owe you my life."

"You don't owe me a thing," he countered softly. "You'd have done the same for me."

Smiling, Rebecca pet his hand still on her cheek. "Of course."

"And besides, we can't have a pretty lady being strangled on my watch."

Her cheeks turned bright red and she turned away, too bashful to meet his eye. Though, the sight she now beheld made her wish she'd never looked away in the first place.

From a support beam in the ceiling, a man hung by a rope imbedded into neck. His throat was disfigured where the bone had snapped forty sharply horribly to the left. The skin around the area was discoloured heavily from bruising. Her sickened gaze rested on the noose's rough coil where it had eaten into the skin, leaving a gruesome sight of torn, rotten flesh hanging in strings over withered muscles.

His corpse was a terrible reminder of the situation they were in.

Rebecca swallowed back the bile, readily looking away from the body. For the first time, she took in her surroundings.

It was a dormitory, not all that big, and especially cramped with all the furniture and other clutter crammed into the space. The wardrobe adjacent the bed was open slightly, clothes spilling into a pile through the base of the gap. The desk near enough shoved into the corner was blanketed with work and stationary, all gathered with dust and splatters of brown which she clearly knew was dried blood. Without ventilation, the smell of death hung strong in the air, though, as she kept telling herself, it wasn't quite as bad as some of the places she'd been in the last day. She had to keep that in mind to stop herself from throwing up - not that she had much left to throw up anyway.

"That guy…" Richard said, referring to the hanging man. She hadn't wanted to look back at the corpse, but when her companion mentioned him, she did so anyway. "… He knew that something bad was happening to them. He didn't want to end up like one of those zombies out there." She was about to ask how he knew this, but he cut her off. "A suicide note. Its on the desk over there. And a pistol, too. I don't think his loved one is going to get to read it, but I think maybe he knew she never would…"

"I guess he wanted to get his last words down on paper before he completely lost his mind…" Rebecca sighed, cuddling herself. "Its so sad…"

"There's another guy in the bathroom. He was shot by our friend here before he could turn." Richard shifted from off the bed, forcing the young medic to move and sit on the edge. He walked over to the cluttered desk, a hand retrieving the note and showing it to her. "… Makes it all seem hopeless; that however much we try there's just no way to escape this God damned nightmare…"

"There has to be a cure in some form. It can't be this hopeless, can it?" But it seemed so, if this man hanging by his neck had shot his friend and then commit suicide to stop from turning. The look on Richard's face said that it was wishful thinking that there was a cure for something so bizarre. She sighed and tentatively got to her feet. Her head didn't spin, but she still had a headache from the impact against the wall. All in all, still relatively good.

Richard placed the note back on the desk. "The longer we stay here, its more then likely that we'll end up meeting a similar fate."

Rebecca disregarded his comment, not wanting to consider how much longer they were going to be stuck there. "We're not infected. If we just keep going, we'll survive this. We've just got to stay calm."

"How do you know I'm not infected?" Richard questioned softly. She looked startled by his question. "I was bitten by that snake. There's a chance, right?"

She was rendered speechless, unable to stand by her previous words. The thought alone had made her blood run cold.

"You've not thought about it?" He asked.

Swallowing the heavy lump in her throat, she looked to her feet, trying to keep the tears from filling her eyes. No, she hadn't thought about it. At the time she had just been concerned about keeping him alive. She'd cured the poison in his system, though the virus infection was another kettle of fish altogether.

"You've not been feeling strange at all?" She asked uneasily. He hadn't been displaying any sort of odd behaviour nor had mentioned anything before now.

"Not really. I mean, my arm has been aching a bit and I have a bit of a headache, but I figure that's just my body telling me I've been hurt." He shrugged and smiled. "Honestly, I've not felt anything odd happening to me at all."

"You must tell me if you do," she insisted, resting a hand supportively against his arm. "I want to help you in any way I can. I don't want it to be too late for you…" Her voice lowered solemnly. "… I don't want the same thing to happen to you, like with Edward and Forest."

"Okay, I will," he soothed, patting her shoulders. She relaxed somewhat. "Any problems and I'll come straight to you."

Nodding, she stepped back, wiping the budding sweat from her brow. Between chasing off her emotions, she looked down at her watch curious of the time. "Not far off midnight," she mumbled. "How long was I out?"

"Can't say. I wasn't paying attention to the time."

"Any news on Chris?"

Richard shook his head. "None. I've been here with you the whole time. Haven't heard anything going on outside. Its been very quiet."

Rebecca sighed. "He has to be here somewhere. We should go look."

"You feeling up to it?"

She saluted. "I'll be fine. It'll take more then that to keep me down."

He grinned, giving her the thumbs up. "Okay, soldier. Lets go."

Retrieving her gun from the bedside table (recovered by Richard after the attack), she followed him towards the door. She was extra careful when she passed by the hanging man.

Had he just moved then? Impossible!She could have scoffed at herself.

He was dead. Neck broken severely and left to rot. But who was she to say whether or not that would stop him from coming back…

As long as there's a door between us, he can do what he wants…

Back out in the hallway, they focused on the door partially obscured by the stack of aging crates. Both had the distinct feeling that it led further into the residence, and just might have been the path Chris had taken. They just hoped he hadn't come into contact with any of the 'plant life' there.

Uncertain whether anymore vines would sneak up through the floorboards, they decided to climb over the crates to avoid any other nasty little surprises.

The narrow corridor they stepped into was much gloomier and cramped then the previous. A chill crept in through an open window, bristling Rebecca's creamy arms with goosebumps.

Just another creepy corridor in another creepy house.

The floorboards creaked under foot as they cautiously made their way down, listening out as best they could for anything that might put them in danger. The end of the corridor made a sharp left, though seemed to be better lit from the glow radiating on the right-hand wall. There were no damning shadows cast across the floor, so they could bravely say they weren't going to be jumped at the corner.

Rebecca glanced out the open window. It was very dark, even a little foggy, though she could make out trees and a metal fence highlighted by specks of moonlight. She thought she heard the scampering of paws not too far away, and so for their safety, shut the window.

On an old mahogany-stained cupboard just below it, were a few fine pieces of china, which she had rattled when bumping her hip against it to close the window. What caught her eye as she stepped back was a picture amidst them, badly aged by sun-damage. Even so, she could still make out the image of a beautiful young woman, her smile framed by beautiful long curls. She could have been the wife of one of the many zombies, or even someone related to the man who built the mansion. Whoever, her beautiful smile was lost forever in a faded image.

"What you looking at?" Richard asked curiously, stepping back when he noticed she'd stopped.

She shook her head and walked on past him. "Oh, its nothing. My mind wandered." She was the first to peak around the corner. As she'd expected - nothing in sight.

The light in the corridor came from a high mounted wall lamp, with a simple covering made of frosty glass to encase the brightly shining bulb. Just beyond it, was a door, affixed with a gold plate reading 'Gallery'. She stepped up to it, her feet crunching on an old woven doormat, slightly marked with droplets of blood. Her hand took the knob and attempted to turn it, but it only moved half way before clanking loudly from the heavy lock.

"No good," she muttered, trying it once more to be sure. "Maybe there's a key."

Richard shrugged. "If we don't find one, we can always try and kick it down."

Giving up on the door for now, she headed around the next little turn, which zigzagged down to a dead end. Though, directly in front of her at the first turn was a door marked '002'. For now her focus went to the dead end. The attraction had been drawn by the piece of paper stuck to the wall.

A map. A very clear layout of the residence.

From what she could see on the paper, it wasn't that big a house. There were a few rooms in the Gallery area, and that was about it. She was hoping that maybe there was a secret back door somewhere, but didn't put too much faith in the idea.

She'd been about to reach for the map, when something buzzed loudly just behind it. Bees? She cringed. It wasn't just one buzzing back there, it was a whole horde of them. The map was covering up a hole, which she could feel when touching the middle of it. As well as she could feel the thrum of little wings beating just behind.

She was allergic to bee stings - quite badly so, and decided it best to leave the map in place, so not to antagonise the colony hiding in their little cove. She went back to the door marked '002'.

Chris couldn't be too far away, she mused. If the Gallery was locked, there was only the room marked '002' left - besides the room with the double doors, which they could easily go back to. Working their way backwards seemed like a pretty good idea.

Rebecca motioned to the door, indicating their next port of call, and tested the handle. This one wasn't locked. Richard covered her as she carefully pushed open the door, going into a crouch to take aim so not to block his own scope.

It was very much like the room she'd woken up in, minus the not-so complimentary hanging man cluttering up the entrance.

Stepping further in, they put up their arms. They were very much alone.

Rebecca couldn't help notice how messy the bed was. Stacks of papers tossed across layers of blood splatter caking the orange sheets. Something horrible had happened here at some point, not that there was much evidence of what had gone on. It was up to her to guess what had transpired.

"Where are you, Chris?" Rebecca questioned in a mutter to herself. While she stood surveying the mess, Richard had wandered up to two bookcases at the back of the room. All the texts were science based, right across the field of natural and social studies. The room had been host to an intelligent mind they were to guess. The thickness of some of the books was astounding, and Richard knew without looking the print inside would be nigh on microscopic.

It was as he was wandering to the left bookcase, mind boggling over some of the titles, that he caught a glimpse of something between the two furnishings. At first, he thought he was seeing things, but when closed on eye and focused, he knew what he was looking at was really there.

A ladder.

"Hey, look at this!" He put his shoulder to the middle shelf, steadying the edge with one hand as he carefully pushed the left bookcase backward. Though it weighed a fair few, it moved across the smooth carpeting with ease. Rebecca wandered over just as he turned to the right one, shoving it off to the side, revealing to her his finding.

"This wasn't on the map," she uttered with surprise. Her secret back door? Maybe there was some hope…

"We can't get enough of these surprises." He stepped forward, cautiously leaning over to look down the hole where the ladder led. Just dirty steel walls and flooring illuminated under dim lighting. Far off, he could hear water dripping with an echoing pop into a pool of water. Cold, moist air rose up to greet them, giving him a great sense of foreboding. He didn't trust what lay beyond.

Rebecca was about to question their next plan of action when her head began to spin wildly, a heaviness suddenly overwhelming her and forcing her suddenly down to her knees. Richard turned upon hearing her groan and rushed to her side, dropping to his knees and catching her arms before she could droop forward.

"Whoa! Rebecca, are you okay?"

It took a moment, but she managed to calm herself down, closing her eyes while she waited for everything to settle. With steady breaths the heaviness finally began to subside. Slowly but surely, she opened her tired eyes to gaze up at her companion. She was about to nod her head in reply to his question, but suddenly thought it a bad idea, and decided to just answer him straight.

"I'll be okay. It was just a dizzy spell."

Richard relaxed a little, though not all that much. The passage beyond the bookcase in all its ominous glory, suddenly seemed ten times more dangerous. How could he protect them both from something he wasn't quite sure was there? He wasn't in the best condition himself, but right now, Rebecca was still recovering from the vine attack and he wasn't willing to put her life at risk.

"Listen," he started, helping her to sit on a patch of the bed where there wasn't any blood. "That passage... I have a really bad feeling about it. Its not worth jeopardising both our lives down there. I'd rather you stay here while you're not a hundred percent."

"You can't be considering going down there alone?!" Rebecca exclaimed with horror. "After everything, you want to run off on your own, like Chris?! What if something happens?! What if you're hurt and I can't get to you?!"

"I'll be careful. I promise."

Rebecca wasn't listening. She clamped her hands as tightly as she could onto his arms, nails digging in. "I won't let you go off alone," she cried desperately. "I won't be able to live with myself if something happens to you!"

"Hey, calm down…"

"You can't! You can't! Don't leave me alone!" She sobbed hysterically until she managed to catch herself, clamping her mouth shut tightly. Turning away, her cheeks flushed bright red with embarrassment. What was she thinking of acting like that? All she had done was made herself look foolish and inexperienced. After a moment, she took a shaky breath and spoke again, voice just above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I'm being stupid."

Shamefully, she looked back up at him, hardly feeling like a member of S.T.A.R.S., but rather an annoyance encumbrance. She was surprised to see his expression was soft, not at all appalled by her outburst. There was a hint of a smile on his face, not as vibrant as its usual manifestation, but it was there, and it wasn't condescending in any way. She couldn't quite work out the expression on his face, not even as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

Now she had more of a reason to blush, breath caught in astonishment. This endeavour was very out of the blue, and at one time she'd have pushed away, not at all easy with these kinds of situations. But she was enjoying it, and actually started to respond in a chaste way, accepting the loving gesture.

Her heart sank as he parted the kiss a little too soon for her liking, but it wasn't as if he was going to throw himself all over her. It would have ruined the little moment they'd had together.

Rebecca was silent, still looking somewhat surprised at him. Why now of all times to kiss her?

Her eyes followed a quick movement of his left hand going to the strap on the glove of his other and snapping back the Velcro. He nudged the glove forward a little, fiddling with something out of sight until she heard a faint click, and from beneath the leather came a chunky gold chain. He weighed it in his hands, staring at it sentimentally before offering it to her.

"A twenty-first birthday gift from my parents." The expensive chain glimmered at her with a beauty that brought a smile to her face. "Not always been fond of jewellery, but it was something they had especially made for me. So I decided to wear it for luck on missions. Not that I've ever told anyone…" He jingled it, motioning for her to take it from him, which she did. "I don't know how things are going to pan out, but I want you to look after this for me. A piece of me still around to keep you safe until I get back." The smile came back full on. His trademark. "You can give it me back when its all over, and slap me for stealing a kiss." He chuckled, re-strapping his glove back into place.

"Okay," she weakly said, continuing to smile beside her unease. "I suppose I'll secure the area while you're away. Meet back here?"

"Yeah. Take your time, okay? Don't push yourself." She nodded, her expression losing its spark of enthusiasm, not at all happy with the situation. He nudged her cheek gently. "Stay sharp, soldier. I'll be back before you know it."

She saluted him like the good little rookie she was, tucking his bracelet into the little medical pack on her hip. "I will."

Richard slung the shotgun onto his shoulder as he walked between the bookcases to the ladder. Just before he could descend, Rebecca stepped forward.

"Richard?"

He paused on the first step. "Yeah?"

"Stay safe."

He smiled warmly. "I promise." And carefully, he went down the ladder.

Rebecca stood watching him until he disappeared from sight. She waited for a little time after, listening to his footsteps echoing in the space below before fading away. Taking a deep breath, she turned on her heel and decided she wanted to go back to the room with the double doors, just to sate her curiosity. If Chris was there after all this, she'd certainly give him a piece of her mind. If she found the courage to, that is.

She inwardly prayed for Richard's safety as she left Room 002, not realising that those few moments with him had been their last together.

She would never see him again.

**A/N: I had my bit of romance squeezed in there. Now, we can go back and have some action...**


	14. Chapter 14: Plant Problems

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is __ to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**A/N: Its taken me nigh on forever to get this done, but I have been chopping and changing things constantly with this chapter. Making a lot of hard work for myself. Nothing new there. Oh well, finally got it near enough the way I wanted it. Sorry for the wait.**

**Chapter 14: Plant Problems**

With a light push, the right-hand double door slowly began to open. Inch by inch the hinges whined in a pitiful, ear torturing manner, sending a shudder up and down the spine of the young medic. She hesitantly poked her gun through the forming gap as she took a tentative step forward.

With a gasp, she was quickly knocked back; not by any physical force whatsoever, but by a foul odour that assaulted Rebecca's delicate nose in all its putrid pungency. Gagging, she snapped her head aside as she fell into a quick retreat, allowing the door to shut again so the smell was once more contained. Her hand clutched tightly to her mouth and nose as she recovered from what had just attacked her senses. It was worse then sour milk doused over a piece of rotting road kill, left festering out in the sun for a few weeks. It left a sour taste in her dry mouth.

_What on Earth is that smell!? God, do I even want to know? _If she'd had any food left in her gut, she'd have lost it right there and then.Though, she wasn't going to let it deter her, no matter how much her stomach twisted at the thought of going into the rank confines of the room beyond.

Breathing only through her mouth, she reopened the door, and cautiously proceeded inside. A few steps beyond the threshold and she suddenly stopped stiff as something squelched under her boot. Her worried eyes glanced down to find it was green fluid to which she had stepped in. This was partially a culprit for the cause of the foul smell punctuating the air. Swallowing hard, she found the liquid trailed off to the right where the primary source was obscured by the open door.

Just as slowly as she'd opened it, she edged it closed.

And there, but a bare few metres away was the slumped corpse of huge, mutated spider. Its thick, coarsely-haired flank devastated by bullet holes - this fact supported by the glistening 9mm casings on the varnished floor. The trail of green fluid ended at the former rump end of the arachnid. It had caved in, forming a massive chasm of puss and splattered guts.

Someone had most certainly passed though at some point and taken care of this unwanted inhabitant, and she was willing to bet it was Chris. Though, how long ago he'd passed through she couldn't guess.

_How could we miss him? Wouldn't we have heard gun shots? _Too many questions filled her mind with not enough answers to follow. She felt the onslaught of a headache as she ruminated over the frustrating task of trying to keep up with the elusive Mr. Redfield. She was finding bits and pieces of an incomplete trail with no obvious signs of where he'd be heading next.

Sighing, she forced herself to remain calm. She knew she couldn't get annoyed or upset over the matter. It wasn't like he was purposely trying to avoid her. He was probably caught up in his own problems.

Though she hoped those problems hadn't ended up with him dead.

Shaking off the grim thoughts, her attention went from the dead spider to regard her dim surroundings. To the right of the door where she'd come to stand, was a small, sparse corner. A few aged pictures tried to cover the cracks of the walls though brought no real life into the space. There wasn't much occupying the small part of the room besides an old antique chair in one corner and a small table wedged into the other. The only thing worth the attention was the green herb sat under the aforementioned table.

She was quick to grab it out of its pot, stopping only to glance atop the table where a lone candle burned. The light through the red wax illuminated an image at the bottom onto the wooden surface. An eye with two prominent lashes on the top. Odd, even pretty, but nothing special. She shoved the green herb into her pack with the others and crossed to the other side of the room, the rest of which was much wider and segregated onto two levels.

The part on which she was stood and another on the same level across the way were caged off with metal grid fencing on the banisters. Both sides over-looked a cosy little bar area roughly a floor down. There would have been nothing odd about it, if not for the massive dead spider smashed through one of the tables in a big splattered mess.

_Lovely. Another One. But at least its dead._

Looking back across to the other level, she could make out a billiard table nestled in its own private corner. She decided to take a look over that side first.

She descended the first set of steps, glancing up at the wall before her populated by posters. There was a centrefold model from an adult magazine staring back at her with a toothy grin. She was a golden-tanned beauty with jet black curls flowing down her back, clad only in a bikini that left nothing to the imagination. Along side her was an advertisement for a muscleman competition. The workers at the residence had gotten together to organise the event, offering up a hefty prize for anyone who thought they had a chance to be crowned 'Muscle of the Year 1998'. The competition was dated for August.

She was willing to bet nobody would be showing up.

Walking across the mid-platform, she turned and ascended the steps up to the area with the billiard table. An unfinished game sat on the table's surface, cues and all.

She noticed a clip for a 9mm gun hiding by the leg of the table, which unfortunately for her, turned out to be empty. She tossed it away absentmindedly, turning towards a stand in the corner, which has a couple of blank papers strewn atop and another of the image-bearing candles. It was an orange one this time, reflecting an eye with four lashes - two on the top, two on the bottom. She kept the image, like its predecessor, at the back of her mind.

With nothing else worth taking in, she headed back down, descending the other set of steps into the bar area, ignoring the other spider corpse as she had a glance around.

The casual little bar wasn't much, but had certainly done its duty when it was in use. Comfortable seats, a plentiful stock of alcohol ranging from expensive whiskey to cheap brand vodka. She tapped the top of an air conditioning unit in the corner which at this point had long since conked out.

Her nosing around eventually rewarded her with a couple of clips of ammunition under the beer counter. She was quick to swipe them. Every bullet she received was a lifesaver.

As she meandered back around the tables, she caught sight of another candle. This time it was a green one and the image below bared a blank eye without lashes. By now, she was getting an inkling there was something about these candles, something that she should really take into account.

What were the images all about? What about the significance of the colours? Nowhere else in the room were these pictures displayed. But why did the candles suddenly make her think there was a puzzle behind it?

_Because these people seem to love them._

It was as she was considering of possible ideas that she thought of the billiard table and its coloured balls. The thought had enough of a tug to send her trotting back up into the quiet corner. She checked the faces of the balls, particularly the ones that matched the colours of the candles. Orange had a number 5 painted on, red a number 3 and green a number 6. But no eye patterns.

Rebecca scoffed at her ridiculous idea. _Yeah, right… As if it would be that simple!_

Why she'd even thought the images were for something more important, she didn't know, but now she just felt like she was running around in circles chasing her tail.

Giving up on her crazy thoughts, she decided to make her way back to Room 002 and wait for Richard. Just as she headed back to the door, a loud groan echoed through the entire building, making the wall tremble for a few nail-biting seconds. And suddenly, it was silent again.

_Creepy… _Whatever it was, she decided to worry about it later. Right now, her goal was to find Chris and meet back up with Richard. Though, the former task wasn't going to be an easy one. Where on Earth she'd start her search she couldn't quite decide.

Had he done his sweep of the residence and already left? But he was the one who'd told them to follow him there. Why suddenly leave and not leave any sort of message?

Rebecca had no intentions of going back outside to try and search for Chris alone. She feared an ambush waiting for her, and with no back-up, she'd be a goner in seconds. But she still wanted a glance out, just to see if maybe, he did go out and was still hanging about the area.

As silly an idea it was, she returned to the storage shed, and using the crate there, she hitched herself up onto the stone wall and managed to scramble up onto the ledge there. She braced herself against the slanted roofing and cast her gaze across the distance.

A fog was setting in from the east, making the forest beyond visually impenetrable. Distantly, hear ears picked up feet scampering around in the grass, and guessed the dogs were gathered in closely around the perimeter. The area the residence was in was pretty well secured by the high fences, but that didn't mean they wouldn't find a gap to crawl through if it meant a free meal.

Looking northwest, she could see the yard below the mansion, where the waterfall was pounding away at the stone in a loud hiss. Glancing up at the mansion from this view, it looked even more ominous then before.

A house of death and destruction. She curse it under her breath.

The path leading to the entrance of the residence was empty. She couldn't see or hear anyone in the vicinity, discounting the dogs not too far off.

Chris had to still be in the residence. She didn't think he'd just leave without any indication of doing so.

Giving up, she jumped down and left the shed, heading straight back in the direction of Room 002, picking up the pace just in case Richard had already returned.

As she turned the corner to pass the Gallery, she noticed that the mat in front of the door was wet and covered in dirt, thickly trodden into its wiry surface. It stopped her for a second, curious to how it had gotten there.

_Focus Rebecca! Richard and Chris! Figure that out later!_

Keeping it fresh in her mind, she quickly rounded the corner and entered Room 002.

She was startled when she nearly walked headlong into the back of a zombie. She gasped, drawing its glassy eyed attention to her as it slowly began to shuffle around. A pitiful moan escaped its lipless, shrivelled face. Just opening its mouth made the grey skin flaking off crack and peel more, exposing the shrunken, dry muscle beneath.

_Where on Earth did he come from?!_

He was mid-turn as she rose her gun on him and pulled the trigger. Two shots hit the centre of it's pulpy chest, sending the living corpse into a wobbly back-step. She took the opportunity to plant her foot into it's torso, feeling bones and muscle crunch under her heel as she sent it crashing down to the floor. Standing over him, she aimed directly for the forehead, ignoring the arms that started to reach up to her, and pumped a single bullet into its brain.

Taking a quivering breath, she exhaled a long sigh, carefully stepping over the corpse and into the main part of the room. Exactly how it was before, besides the grimy sodden footsteps imprinted clearly on the carpet.

Had Richard come back? Where was he now?

"Richard?" She hopped over the dead man and checked the bathroom. Empty.

She followed the wet trail back out of the room, distinctly knowing where she was going to end up. Back at the mat outside the Gallery. This was where the footsteps ended. She glanced up at the door, a frown set in place.

_But it was locked before, wasn't it? _

She tried the handle. This time, it opened.

Had Richard found the key? Or maybe Chris? Or someone else? Rebecca pushed the door open while remaining stood on the mat. The room beyond was thick with silence, but she couldn't be too sure if anyone or anything was in there. Her vantage point had been hindered by the left wall that extended a few metres ahead of her, creating a small, narrow walkway in the entrance.

Finding her courage only with the aid of her gun pointed ahead of her, she stepped inside, shutting the door carefully behind her.

It was a bizarre feeling as she entered the centre of the Gallery, as if she'd been suddenly plunged into the bowels of an old maritime ship. From the mounted wheel on the wall to the tiller wound in thickly woven ropes laying across one the many shelves filled with aging trinkets of the deep. On the table directly in the middle of the intersecting room, amidst an array of old glass beakers and test tubes, included an old but well kept telescope, its brass still shining as if freshly polished. There was even a ship in a bottle, still intact and looking quite grand.

In her dimly lit surroundings, she found herself having to choose which direction she should take next.

To her left was a single door that led into its own little private corner, to her right there was a door labelled with a plaque reading '003'. Just down the side of that, was a short corridor leading to a set of double doors. And her last route of choice was to the north-east which went off into a small corridor.

She decided on the last option before testing any of the doors.

As she stepped into the corridor's opening, she froze on the spot.

There was a man sat up against the wall, gaping at her in a fixed stare of pain and horror. His face was bloated, swollen in huge lumps across every inch of exposed pale skin. She approached with every bit of caution, not too sure if he was dead or EXTREMELY dead. Swallowing, she came to stand in front of the body. She was very certain of his manner of death now up close. He'd been stung to death.

The sounds of buzzing from earlier came back to ear, but it now sounded pretty pathetic. Turning to her left down to the last little section of corridor, she could see why. The mass colony of bees that had been residing there were lapsed out across the floor, most dead, but some still trying to grasp to the last bit of life left in them. Above the smell of the fusty corpse slumped before her, she could smell the lingering scent of insecticide.

She was in awe of the size of the bugs. The virus had a frightful effect on everything around it. They were nearly as big as ripe watermelons.

Whoever had unlocked the gallery had brought a hefty amount of bug spray and taken care of the problem. Very lucky for her.

With a dead end beyond the hive, Rebecca turned back and returned to the intersection. Her attention now went to the door to the little room next to the entrance. She noticed there was a key pad on the side. When trying to the handle, she confirmed it was locked, and knew she'd be relying on the pad to get inside. Curiosity got the better of her, and she hit a button to activate it.

At the top were three small screens. Immediately when she'd hit the pad, the first one started to flash, the image on the screen clearly lit up. An image appeared. An eye with four lashes.

Rebecca was hardly surprised, in fact, she felt like laughing if things weren't so grim.

_Well that was predictable_, she mused. How easy it had suddenly become to work out what was a puzzle and what wasn't. In this case, it was a numerical puzzle for the door lock based on the image.

But what could the numbers be? She recalled the images, the three eyes. One had two lashes, the other four and the last had none.

_Hmm… Could it be to do with the lashes? _ It was worth a shot.

She jabbed in '4', the next window lighting up to reveal the two lashes, which she promptly hit '2', and then lastly the one without, which she hit '0'. One of two little lights on the bottom lit up red and the console let out a shrill sound that lasted a few seconds before switching itself off. Rebecca frowned and tried the handle.

Still locked.

"Damn!" She cursed. It wasn't as easy as that. There was more to solving the problem and she needed to wrack her brains to figure it out.

It took a few moments before she remembered the colour theory. It had tugged at her when she'd first glanced at the billiard table, and now it didn't seem so ridiculous after all. The balls each had a number to them, which might have been used along side…

_Worth a try… _She reactivated the keypad which had reset to take the numeric input.

The four lashes - orange - number 5. The two lashes - red - number 3. And the no lashes - green - number 6. She tapped them in one after the other as the screens lit up. The beep this time was short and sweet, and the second light lit up green on the bottom. The sound of the door unlocking brought a small grin to Rebecca's face. It was as a part of her had foreseen.

_Nothing too hard for me to figure out! _She opened the door and stepped inside.

The room was cramped with shelves taking up the right and back and a sink and cupboard just up the way on the left. There were jars and chemical containers everywhere.

Aside her medical knowledge, she was well trained in handling chemicals. Not quite as well as Kenneth had, but she was no novice. She recognised a few of the compounds on display as she strolled down the line along the right-hand wall, but some were completely new to her. Most had been tapped with no labels with new tags to identify the different compounds. Probably to make it easier, but that was only an assumption.

_Maybe I can make something useful out of these chemicals? A weapon maybe?_

It was definitely worth another pit stop at some point. Leaving, she headed over to 'Room 003'.

It was just like the other two, but with one difference. It was completely covered in vines. This immediately rooted her to the spot, gulping quietly as she tightened her fists fearfully at her side. Images of her previous encounter with the vines that left her almost drowning in a cold sweat. Yet after a moment or two, she began to relax. None of them showed signs of attacking.

Her eyes glanced across the room now acting as a custom greenhouse. The vines hadn't just simply grown up the walls like ivy would, they'd torn through the ceiling and partially through the floor, intertwining and damaging everything in their path. The bookshelves, the bed, the desk - they had all been tortured by the overgrown plant life. Even the bathroom was decimated under the pulsating tendrils.

With nothing useful to scavenge and no signs of her two companions, she didn't hesitate to leave. She wasn't going to risk hanging around for round two with the plant life. But just as she closed the door behind her, a horrified scream ripped through the residence.

It had literally come from behind her.

It had sounded a lot like Chris.

"Chris!" She instinctively called, spinning wide eyed on her heels. Her attention was suddenly drawn down the side of 'Room 003' to the double doors she had yet to explore beyond. His cry had to have come from there.

She charged for the door, almost slamming full on into it as she grabbed the handle, forcing the stiff brass downward as she stumbled into the room.

Her mouth dropped open, heart skipping a beat…

What had been once a boardroom on two oak formed levels had been taken over from pillar to post by the pulsating form of giant plant hanging from the rafters. She'd reached the mother of all plants, which seemed pretty literal in the case of the evil vines that had ripped into the foundations of the residence.

Its huge slimy bulb pulsated like a beating heart on exhibition. From its 'mouth' dozens of tentacles poured out, thrashing around the space with great annoyance. One of which was wrapped around her fellow STARS member.

Chris was struggling in the plant monster's grip, grunting a wheezing at the tight coil twisted around his chest. Even though he was dwarfed and outmatched in his position, he was still determined to fight until the very end.

Freeing one of his arms, he yanked his combat knife from its holder, slashing it across the entrapping tentacle.

"Chris!" She yelled up, quickly having to duck and dive as a tentacle lashed just over head, snapping off the corner of the banister to her right.

Upon hearing her voice, he turned, searching her out until he spied her stumbling up to her feet.

"Rebecca! Get out of here!" He warned through gritted teeth, starting to struggle with each and every breath as the tentacle became tighter.

"I won't just leave you here to die!" She aimed her gun at the bulb of the plant, hesitant as Chris was constantly being positioned in her line of fire.

"Your weapon is useless on this thing! Listen…" After some struggling, he managed to toss down two items. One was a file and the other a map. "Take these! You can make a chemical to kill the roots. They're located in the basement!"

Rebecca quickly slid forward to grab the two items and leaped back towards the wall to avoid being whipped across the room. The folder was stamped with 'lab experiment' on the front and the other was a map of the basement. As before, Chris had been making notes on it, which was helpful for her to quickly locate the room housing the roots.

"Hurry! Please!" Chris implored, his attention back to hacking at his captor.

Rebecca didn't need telling twice. "I'll be back as quick as I can! Don't you die on me now!" Quickly ducking another tentacle, she exited back through the double doors.

She tucked the map into the back of her belt while she thumbed quickly through the lab experiment folder containing the notes on how to create the chemical known as 'V Jolt'. The root killer.

_No time to falter, _she told herself. Chris's life was in her hands.

The elements she needed for creating V-Jolt were all located in the chemical room. She immediately race back there.

Tossing the file onto the counter surface beside the sink, she quickly gathered together a few empty jars stacked across the right-hand shelves. Easily memorising the notes, she jammed a jar under the tap and turned it on while quickly turning towards the shelves of chemicals. She located the one she needed. Yellow-6. She partially filled the other jar with a small amount of it and turned back to the sink, turning off the water and transferring some into the jar of Yellow-6. The water instantly reacted with the chemical, turning it a bright green. This is what they referred to as UMB 7.

Phase one down.

With another clean jar at hand, she rushed over to collect another chemical from the corner. UMB 3, a red compound with an official name too long to pronounce without choking. Mixing it in with what was left of the water created a strong scented purple liquid. NP-004.

She could hear a couple of gun shots echo distantly from the old boardroom. _Got to work faster…_

Phase two down, she quickly added some Yellow-6 into her NP-004 to get an orange chemical what the notes called UMB 10. Mixing this with the UMB 7 sitting beside the sink formed VP-017 was formed in all its blue glory.

Another few drops of UMB 3 into the mixture and it all turned a murky brown, the scent of which curled her nose.

That had been the last step. What was in her hands was suppose to be V-Jolt. One potent weed killer. She prayed to any God that was listening that she'd made it up right. For Chris's sake this had to do the job.

Finding a cap for the jar on one of the bottom shelves, she screwed it on tightly before making a rush for the door, pulling the map out to memorise the path she needed to take.

Leaving the Gallery and the sound of echoing gun shots behind her, she rushed back towards Room 002, hoping no more zombies decided to creep out of nowhere to block her path. Luckily for her, the room was all clear.

She arrived at the top of the ladder which Richard had descended earlier. Now it was her turn.

Swallowing, she turned and placed her foot onto the first step, tucking the jar tightly under one arm and carefully though still fairly hastily made her way downward.

_God I hope Richard hasn't wandered too far… I really need him right now…_

Hoping Chris would hold out until she reached the roots, she made her way down into the murky corridor below…


	15. Chapter 15: Turning Tides

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is © to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**A/N: It has been nigh on forever since my last update, but for the love of me, I couldn't get this chapter started. I know how I wanted it to go, but simply getting there was a task and a half. So, I've worked on it on and off, more so in these last few days and finally, after forever and a day, its done. Thanks for your patience! Onward with the story!**

**Chapter 15: Turning Tides**

The bleak, grey walls of the first narrow corridor rushed by in a blur as Rebecca dashed hastily without falter. The echo of her pounding boots on the concrete was the only thing she could hear just above her heartbeat, hammering at break-neck speed inside her ribcage. She barely had the time to acknowledge her surroundings nor care of the dangers she might have to come face to face with.

She only had one goal. Save Chris's life.

And she had very little time to do so.

She did her best to memorise the map at hand, while keeping the jar of 'V-Jolt' tightly clutched to her breast. One slip up and her precious cargo could end up smashed across the floor. This was Chris's lifesaver and she'd be damned if she let anything happen to it.

The first door she came to was marked clearly on the map as her entrance point. This would to take her further into the underground area. Tugging open the heavy iron entry port, she was brought onto a very narrow path that cut off a few metres forward at a ledge. A long ladder bolted to its flank was her only access to area below.

The smell of rot and salty water drew a sharp gasp from her throat. A slight vortex of vapour clung to the air as her warm breath fluttered into the cold confines. This place, she took very careful note of, was not only wet from top to bottom, but also covered in layers of sludge and silt. More chances of slippage if she didn't watch her step.

Wedging the jar between her makeshift harness of the belt of her trousers and her side-packs, she freed her hands up to tackle the ladder without too many problems. With the map shoved between her teeth, she descended, cringing inwardly at God knows what filth her hands clutched to on those metal bars.

The bottom was a junk pile; a deposit of rusting scrap metal and decaying wooden boxes amongst other indescribable components all crammed together around the base of the ladder. She thought she could even see a compressed rotting corpse mangled in the midst of the mess, but paid it very little mind. If it wasn't a zombie, it wasn't much to consider.

Hopping over the scrap, she wound down the damp-ruined corridor, slowing her speed on the damp metal floor as made for the only exit, that being a double door. The whine of their rusting hinges resonated into the expanse of the room beyond, stopping her mid-step as she gaped around in awe.

The room was some kind of observation laboratory, most of which was high above her head on two separate levels of steel circle walkways. The room was dripping abundantly with water, a drop of which caught the back of her neck and made her jump.

The reason for the leakage, deduced easily by a keen eye, was from the damaged tank under the middle control tower. It had to be an aquarium-type set-up, though she couldn't be a hundred percent sure until she found corresponding evidence.

Removing the map from her mouth, she pin-pointed her location and found the next door just across the way on the right-hand side.

_No more time to waste!_

Through the door was an area untouched by the water. The first narrow corridor lead up a few steps to a left turning into the base of the control tower. The forward path hit a dead end where three fuel tanks were hooked up. All three were empty by a quick glance at the gauges.

She entered the room to the left, coming across a small rectangle of a room, partially dedicated to controlling some of the systems in the epicentre as well as used, by her guess, for planning meetings. To the left of the doorway was a cramped work area with a long table and six chairs wedged into the corner. It was covered in strewn paperwork, a small white board with topless marker pens and some old food wrappers stuffed into empty plastic coffee cups. To the right was a half circle of control panels set just below two large iron shutters, locked and sealed, as confirmed bye the text flashing on one of the readers. The pressure gauges below the right hand shutter were much higher then the ones below the other, meaning it must have been damaged. Thus the reason for the lock down. A red light flashing above her head left an ominous feeling in the abandoned room.

A ladder just to the left of the last forward control panel was her exit. Map back in her mouth, she clambered up with haste.

The area above was but a small pathway populated by an aging cabinet and menial cleaning equipment pressed against the wall across from the exiting double doors. She wasn't far from her destination now. It was just out the door to the left, taking another left once she hit the walkway and the room with the roots would be right there. The awkward double doors took a bit of heaving but finally opened for her.

The whoosh of air through the vents in the ceiling filled the large room with a slight whirring noise that echoed across the level with a skin-tingling thrum. It really did make the room feel pretty lonely.

She turned and made for the steps onto the second level and abruptly stopped. Right in front of the bottom step, of all things to come across, was a shark. A small great white if she guessed correctly. Her eyes widened, breath choked back with. She'd expected more along the lines of colourful little tropical fish, but not a shark. Not right there in front of her, anyway.

The moment she took another step down, the seemingly dead creature sprung back to life, gathering whatever fighting spirit it had left to attack. It flopped about on the steel, its gaping mouth gasping desperately with dying rage as it reached out to clamp onto whatever came close. She shot back up, banging the back of her ankle hard on one of the steps. She hissed through gritted teeth.

But she couldn't let this shark panic her. She had a mission to accomplish, no matter what. With her Beretta quickly plucked from her holster, she aimed at the flailing creatures head and fired three bullets into its brain. The shark flopped full out, twitching away the last surge of life.

She took a big leap over the shark and ran on around the circle to the first door that Chris had marked with a big circle. This was her destination.

She practically kicked the door down.

The lamp hanging overhead was dim from the damage done to the wiring through the cracked ceiling. The roots of the large plant has pierced through the corner of the room and had spread out from there, digging into the concrete walls, destroying the monitors and electronic panels across the back partition. The roots were moving slightly, seemingly trying to search out the water that had previously leaked into the room. It was having to make do with the moisture left in the air.

Rebecca pulled the jar from out between her belt and packs, uncapping the deadly V-Jolt. She stepped around to the other corner of the room opposite the roots, keeping out of their way in case they started to thrash about in retaliation.

_Chris, hang in there! _With an underarm toss, she deposited the liquid up and across the middle of the roots. Any left inside the jar she doused onto the other sides, even throwing in the glass container for good measure. The reaction was near enough instantaneous.

The roots began to smoke and crackle, as if on fire. A high pitched hiss resonated through the room as the dark roots writhed in agony before curling up and dying moments later. The withered stems shrunk back up towards the hole in the ceiling.

She'd succeeded in her part of the plan, now it was time to find out if she'd done so in time. She ran back the way she'd come, not having to take as much care as before now that she no longer carried precious cargo with her.

All the while she headed back, she was not only thinking of Chris's jeopardy, but also of the whereabouts of Richard. There had been no sight or sound of him in the depths below the residence. She was becoming very concerned for his well being. Though she hoped when she got back to 'Room 002', he'd be waiting for her.

No such luck. Stepping off the ladder into the dormitory, she came face to face with another zombie. Its sunken face drooled with delight at the sight of her fresh flesh and in a matter of seconds it was launching itself at her, broken fingers reaching out for her.

Rebecca leapt out of the way, a hairs length away from it grabbing hold. She could smell its putrid breath huffing a groan of disgust for missing her. Rolling up just behind it, she daringly charged at the undead man and rammed him in the back. Like a drunk, he tripped over his own two feet and fell into the gap beyond the ladder. Its pitiful wail echoed a brief second into the hollow corridor below before a sickening crack reverberated its ultimate demise. Giving it little thought or pity, she barrelled out of the room.

She charged into the 'Gallery', panting like a mad woman, her pace only slowing as she came mere metres from the double doors.

Suddenly, they opened.

Her hand went to the butt of her gun, though stopped when she noticed it was Chris, battered and bloodied, but still very much alive.

"Chris!" Relief etched itself clearly onto her exhausted face. "I was so worried. I didn't think I'd make it in time."

He offered her a smile. "You saved my ass. I owe you… again."

She blushed, waving off his words. Her focus went back to the matter at hand. "The plant?"

"Uprooted. It won't be bothering anyone ever again."

The young medic sighed happily. "Thank goodness."

The glint of elation in his eyes was abruptly replaced with anguish as he seemed to suddenly recall something. His weapon lowered in weakened hands, as did his head as he slowly walked past her.

"Listen, Rebecca…" His tone was even, albeit the slight discomfort that seemed to creep in for what he was going to say. "Its about Richard. He's…" He hesitated to finish the sentence, stopping just behind her, their backs turned on each other.

Rebecca's heart felt like it would stop any second. She knew, without him finishing the sentence, of Richard's fate. It made a lot of sense. He'd disappeared completely, no word, no nothing, even after the time they'd been apart. She would have expected something before now. Her shaking hand clutched to her chest, feeling her heart thud perilously just below her finger tips with the shock of knowing she would never see him again.

She swallowed, forcing her voice to stay as even as Chris's had been. "I see."

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "There was nothing I could do. He saved me… The shark was…"

"It doesn't matter," she quickly said, not wanting to hear anymore. She turned, her voice softening to make up for her sudden snap. "I understand, really. This place is a bizarre world of its own. Its by sheer luck we've made it this far. And even having skill doesn't seem to be enough…" Sighing, she took a moment to breathe and fight the tears. She glanced up at Chris, who was simply waiting for her to speak. "Look," she said, changing the subject with a glance at his current bodily, "that chemical room in the corner has a lot of useful items. I'm gonna go through it and take some supplies. I think we should recoup there for the moment and I'll patch up your wounds at the same time."

"Sounds like a plan. After you."

She didn't like playing the leader, but this was no time to feel bashful. They were still in danger from other unseen foes. This was the time to let go of the grief before she put herself back out there into the nightmare. A clear head would certainly save her life.

Once inside the cramped room, the young medic pulled a stool out from the corner and patted the top, indicating for him to sit down. He did so without a word of protest.

She set out her required medical implements on the side by the sink and ran the water into a bowl she'd found hiding on one of the shelves. With a quick dust out, it was good enough for use. She then proceeded to cleanse and sterilise his wounds ready for wrapping, all the time absorbed in the silence of the room.

With neither speaking, her mind gave way to thoughts of the man whose kiss was a truly final goodbye. Guilt swamped her tired frame, her eyes burning from the tears she could not stop from forming. If only she'd stopped him, if only she'd been stronger…

_Maybe then he'd still be alive… Oh, Richard…_

The tears fell as she inwardly beat herself up for allowing him to descend to his death. She tried to blink away the bitter tears, but more just seemed to come. Her hands, trembling, slowly attended Chris's wounds with more feebleness then she would have liked. His hand came to rest upon hers as she tied the last bandage into place at his mid-section. A sob unwillingly escaped her lips and she looked away.

"Come on, Rebecca," he said in the most soothing voice he could muster. "You have to be strong."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't even apologise for how you're feeling."

She scoffed, taking over her gloves to wash her hands in the sink. "Its highly unprofessional of me to let my emotions take over."

"Be as unprofessional as you want to be. Its not exactly the most straight forward case we're on." He stood, replacing his combat vest which had been removed so she could attend to his bruised ribs. "Its hard, I know. Good people have died and we're having to struggle on by ourselves. But we've got to keep our chins up and believe we're gonna get out of here alive."

She shut off the tap, drying her hands on a cut off piece of unused bandage. "Are we?" She dolefully questioned.

"Of course we are." He sounded very sure of himself. She didn't know whether to believe him or not. In the back of her mind, she could still hear Richard telling her he trusted him and she couldn't help but give in to his words.

She was envious of his positive spirit. Hers had now waned near enough to nothing.

"So…" She turned to him, her shoulders slumping slightly from fatigue. "… What now?"

"Unfortunately there's no back door out of here," he said, leaning back against the wall, "and its not even a viable option to jump the fence with those dogs out there. We're going to have to head back to the mansion, regroup with the others and see if we can't find another route of escape."

"Do you think they're still alive?"

Chris's expression hardened somewhat with tenacity. "I'll still believe they're alive until I find evidence they're not. I'm not going to let anyone else die. We've lost too many to those bastard monsters."

Rebecca wanted to say that he shouldn't make promises like that, but said nothing, merely nodding as she put her gloves back on.

He straightened up, pushing off from the wall. "I'm going to head back to the mansion. We'll make the medical room our temporary base of operations."

"I'll follow you shortly. I'm going to take what I can carry of these supplies."

"Right." He pumped the shotgun, dispensing the last spent shell. "I'll secure the route back. Don't be too long okay?"

"Yes, sir." He gave her a thumbs up and left her to her own devices.

Even as she moved about the cramped room gathering together a view small bottles of corrosive substances, she allowed herself to cry silently for her lost comrades, most particularly, Richard. She begged whatever divine being existed on high to take care of him now and not let him have to suffer ever again.

Having gathered suitable 'chemical weapons', she dried her eyes, took a deep breath and exited the room. There was nothing left for her in the residence. It was time to leave it well and truly behind her.

* * *

Far below the mansion, within the confines of one of the many metal-walled chambers, lines of reinforced cages were securely locked, keeping within them the most dangerous and volatile creations of the virus. The thick hides of these monstrosities ran against the solid bars irritated by their confinement. They were killers in desperate need to spill blood and tear flesh asunder. They had been waiting much too long for their desired hunt. Prey was close, they could sense it.

The dark room was suddenly pierced by a sharp light as the heavy shutter door slid open with a rusty creak. All sharp reptilian eyes behind the bars turned to the entranceway, where a figure cast in shadow entered with a steady and fearless pace. The man paid no heed to the salivating beasts screeching at him wildly, banging against the cage doors to try and get at him, and simply crossed the room to a blinking red-lit panel imbedded into the wall. With a clink, he pulled a key from his back pocket and stuck it into the semi-illuminated lock, turning it counter-clockwise. Part of the panel slipped up, revealing a line of eight switches. He flicked them all. Slowly put surely, each green light on the main console bleeped to life one after the other. The man was already leaving the room just as the last two lights came on, all blinking collectively. He did not reseal the entrance door.

For a moment, there was silence and the beasts ceased their cries, though they were alert, waiting for something to happen.

And it did. There was four loud clunks and suddenly, the line of cage doors began to rise, hinges wailing as the heavy metal ascended up to the ceiling. There was some hesitation as the beasts slowly inched forward, claws clicking on the marble floor. Glancing around with a sniff of the sterile air, it became very clear what had happened.

They'd been freed.

Screeching with malevolent pleasure, the horde scattered. And so the hunt began.

* * *

Rebecca pulled the back door closed behind her lightly, the click even as soft as it was, echoed with fair reverberation around the empty corridor. She ignored the gruesome splash of corpses her team had dispatched earlier and continued through towards the eastern stairwell.

She'd counted her blessings that there had been no conflict on her trek back up to the mansion. Even if there hadn't been an enemies blocking the way, Chris had done a good job of keeping everything clear for her safe return. Hopefully he'd not come to any harm himself, but she felt positive he was okay having not seen any fresh blood on the path back to the house.

Though, she didn't quite trust things to remain safe, even when there were no foes to see or hear. They'd be out there somewhere in the shadows, waiting for them. It was a gut feeling she had.

Their escape, if they did manage to get out, wasn't going to be anytime soon. They were currently in a quandary with all their leads smashing quite swiftly into a dead end.

She turned past the broken door to the study and used to door at the far end to enter the 'U' corridor.

The minute she closed the door behind her, something moved. One step, two step, and a pause. Rebecca, freezing up, swallowed silently, turning towards the corridor's sharp corner to the far left of her. For the longest second, there was silence and then, THUD THUD THUD, hasty steps one after the other beating against the carpet with definite weight and determination behind them.

The young medic stepped away from the entering door and slowly back peddled, raising her gun, which was tightly clamped between both of her sweaty hands.

From around the corner, it appeared, stopping in the turning stiffly as it spun itself fully in her direction. The yellow eyes that blinked at her looked ravenous.

Rebecca was not unfamiliar with this enemy, but it was just as frightening to see it now as it was the first time she'd laid her eyes on it. The creature was a hulking gorilla-like beast malformed from what could have been once described as a frog. Its scaly body was thick with muscle from its hulking hide through to its nearly floor length steely arms and doubled-jointed legs. She's seen a file mentioned on this creature in the training area. It was nicknamed a 'Hunter'. She's been lucky not to have faced many of them before. They'd taken a lot of ammo to put down.

But how the hell did it get into the mansion? Where had it come from? Did it make its way from the training facility? Or from the forest?

They stared at each in for a moment, the Hunter gauging the frightened woman as she hesitated with her Beretta at hand, which seemed rather puny a weapon to even fight this creature with. A shotgun or magnum were the kind of firepower required to tear apart its naturally armoured body, but it was just her and her handgun. And she didn't think the acidic chemicals would help her much. In the seconds it would take to pry the containers from her pack, she'd have been swiftly beheaded.

It screeched with ear-piercing ferocity, and she bolted, heading straight from the study door.

It began its chase.

She charged into the room, kicking the door closed behind her and went to grab a chair shoved under one of the tables to jam tightly under the door knob. The Hunter rammed the door, causing her to fall back and bend the chair at an awkward angle.

It wouldn't hold up for long against the monsters attacks. She had to get out of their pronto.

She headed for the opposite door and grabbed the handle.

It wouldn't turn.

_No! Not this again!_

She shook the handle, pulling at the door with every ounce of strength she had, but it simply wouldn't budge.

The Hunter slammed the other door again, and it crashed open, shattering the chair across the carpet.

Rebecca turned and opened fire. Hesitation would mean the end of her.

The bullets punched at its scaly body but did no serious harm. It roared and leapt at her. She cried out with fright as its hulking body came crashing down over her, fanged jaws clamping around the mid-shaft of her gun. She instantly jammed her feet into its chest the minute her back hit the floor.

It growled, clamping its jaws down tight, snapping the barrel in two. Gasping, she kicked with all her might, and surprisingly, it fell back a pace, tripping over a fallen book and slamming into the other door, throwing it shut.

Rebecca tossed her obliterated gun to the side and went back to the other door handle, trying again to get it open. "Please, please! Come on!" She cried frightfully, turning to look back at the virus-born creature, which was shaking off its previous bewilderment. Now it was even more pissed off then ever.

It was over. She could feel the end in sight as those deadly yellow eyes bore through her with no intent of forgiveness.

_So, this is how I die…_

She couldn't help but scream as it came charging at her, rearing back its mighty claw ready to shred her fragile body to pieces…


	16. Chapter 16: Follow The Leader

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is copyright __ to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**Chapter 16: Follow The Leader**

Never in her life had three seconds lasted so long.

It was a very merciless illusion conjured by the fear inside her mind, forcing her to see the world putter along at an agonisingly slow pace. It was a sick joke - why should she be forced to nurse her last horrifying seconds of life this way? Why should she be forced to acknowledge every emotion and painted detail that would be forever engraved upon her being.

Death was a very frightening concept, but it was a simple one at that. It meant the end. Life so fragile snuffed out in an instance. But it wasn't the fact of dying that made her so scared - that part was easy. Once it happened, it happened. It was the pain and suffering she'd have to endure before she met her end. She prayed with every last ounce of her mortal soul that the deathblow would be quick.

So there she was, in the longest three seconds of her life, staring with wide green eyes at the monstrous 'Hunter' as it flew at her, its outstretched claw glistening razor sharp, eager to split her in two.

Her heart thundered so loud inside her head that she could barely hear her own screams.

_BOOOOM!_

Her ears rang, enough to temporarily distort her senses. The sound of her heartbeat was instantly replaced by the stark sound of a weapon fire and in response, came the shriek of her aggressor.

With its attack disrupted, the hulking beast turned its focus away from her as it landed in an awkward half-crouch barely inches from her. With a squeak of fright, she scooted back. Its beady eyes bore into the newcomer, furiously determined for payback for the dared intervention.

As it turned, Rebecca could see a nasty tear across its scaly back, freely oozing thick, dark blood. It shrilly roared, arms spread as it rushed towards the opposite door, launching its claws at its new opponent.

Two more deafening gunshots tore through the room, savaging the creatures burly body with little effort. Its chest was ripped wide open, its innards spilling out like mush onto the carpet. It fell backwards against the bookshelf, directly opposite of Rebecca. The wooden frame started to tip in her direction. She was jammed up right into the corner, knowing that with her position, she'd never get out of the way in time. Covering her face, she braced herself for the impact.

But her saviour, the gun-wielding newcomer, was there to stop its descent. And with a huge push, sent it back on top of the fatally wounded creature, pinning its twitching carcass to the floor.

Rebecca dropped her hands, looking up with heartfelt relief to her rescuer.

"Chris!"

The Alpha team member holstered what appeared to be a .50 calibre Magnum, and knelt down before her, hands softly taking her quivering shoulders. His touch alone took away the fright she'd once felt.

He'd saved her life, repaying his debt to her ten times over.

Richard had always been right. She could trust him wholly with her life.

"Are you okay?" He asked, starting to help her to her feet.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry for worrying you." She looked down dejectedly. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"Don't worry about it. Its not like I haven't got myself into trouble, right?" She gave a small smile in response. "Though we have to remain vigilante. If there are more of those things running around, we're gonna have to play it more cautious."

_Strange to hear that coming from him… _

"That monster destroyed my gun." She motioned to the shattered pieces of the Beretta littering the carpet. "What am I going to do now?"

"Here." Chris removed his own Beretta from between his belt and handed it to her. "Have this. I won't be needing it with the kind of weapons I'm packing." He also handed her the last two clips of 9mm parabellum. "Try to conserve ammo where possible. If its easier to run, then run."

"You don't have to tell me twice." The current clip in the Beretta was half full. She snapped it back in and nodded. "Thank you."

"No problem."

She tucked the ammo into her pack, heading over to sit down on top of the desk. "Any luck finding the others?"

He shook his head. "Not as of yet, but I'll keep trying. Look, you stay here. Calm your nerves. You're as white as a ghost."

She wanted to argue, but she knew he was right. She did still feel a little overwhelmed and figured that taking a short breather might restore her confidence to get back out there and face what other hellish demons the mansion threw at her.

"I'll resume the search for the others," he continued. "If I learn anything new, I'll leave you a note in the main hall. We'll use it as a rendezvous point if needs be."

"Alright. I'll catch up with you shortly. Don't go too far."

He simply nodded, slipping the assault shotgun from his shoulder and exited back through the inner entrance to the study.

Rebecca removed herself from the top of the desk, instead, using the front to slide herself down into a sitting position. She sighed long and hard, leaning her head back against the smooth wooden surface.

_How lucky am I? _She inwardly snorted, shocked that she'd cheated death yet again where greater men had died. Her luck was just about up, she figured. She couldn't keep fluking her way through forever.

She sat there for a good fifteen minutes, catching her breath and clearing her mind as best she could of the horror she'd just faced. Glancing now and again over at the corpse of her attacker, she kept telling herself that it was a sign that she would live through this. That she had to trust in herself and others. If she could make it this far after over a days worth of this nightmare, then she could see it through to the end.

She was startled by the sudden crackling coming from her previously silent radio. Unclipping it from her belt, she cradled it against her knees, looking at it with a raised brow. Why had it suddenly come to life? Was she picking up someone else's transmission from close by? Or maybe someone was trying to get in contact with her?

"This is Brad!"

She jolted and dropped it in surprise. The loud, slightly panicky voice broke through the airwaves with startling clarity, making her realise how thick the silence around her really was.

Resting her hand to her heart, she stared down at the device with disbelief. One minute it worked, the next minute it didn't. Lord only knew why is toyed with her so much.

"S.T.A.R.S Alpha team, Bravo team, it doesn't matter! Please respond!"

The Alpha team pilot was really still out there, trying to find them. There was still some hope to linger over. She carefully lifted the radio back up and pushed the receiver button.

"Hello?" She dubiously spoke into the mouth piece. Static crackled for a moment before he repeated his message to anyone who could hear. She tried to reply again, but with the same results. It appeared that she could hear him, but he couldn't hear her.

She tried again and again to message him back, but he just didn't seem to pick up on it. Eventually, his voice faded out and the radio fell back into silence.

Rebecca was only a little disappointed. She'd given up long ago on hoping the damn thing would work. She shoved it back on her belt and got back up to her feet. It had been enough time now for her to recoup. She needed to get back to the task at hand.

Find the others and rejoin Chris.

* * *

Brad groaned, pushing the helmet-attached microphone down from his mouth. His throat was dry from shouting out the same desperate message over and over in hopes one or possibly more of his team mates would respond and save him from the shame knotting up his gut.

At one point, he could have sworn he'd heard Enrico's voice crackling very weakly through the radio. Even as he tried to speak to him, the Bravo Captain seemed to continue his ramblings, unhearing. It sounded like he was talking to someone. But it couldn't have been, as nobody else could be heard within the distorted transmission. Brad had to strain to hear what he was saying and could only pick up little bits.

Files. Laboratory. Umbrella.

_What does it all mean?_

Eventually, Enrico's voice disappeared into the heavy static and he was unable to pick him up again.

No matter what, the pilot was not going to give up his search. But who knew how long he could keep it up. This time, it wasn't his nerves getting the best of him, it was the fuel gauge. Less then half now and certainly by early morning, the tank would be empty.

He still had some time to search for his comrades. But he didn't have forever.

* * *

Rebecca made an uneventful return to the medical room, picking up on their original meeting plan. Though she was glad of the respite from the violence, her nerves were still on edge as distantly she could distinguish the movement of more of those 'Hunter' creatures. She might have been safe for the moment, but she was certain she wouldn't be if she hung around in the same place for too long. On entering the room, she found she was very much alone. Though, she hadn't really expected anyone to be there.

She set her mind to restocking her supplies, taking as much as she could fit into her packs. She would not be returning to this room. In fact, she hoped she'd be putting the mansion far behind her as soon as possible.

The former residents did not have her pity. Play with death and forever be locked in limbo. It was just punishment for what she believed they been involved with.

These 'creatures' had destroyed her team, destroyed good people who were only doing their job to protect Raccoon City. She was one of few left to exist in this nightmare, fighting with luck temporarily on her side.

Umbrella may have effectively shot itself in the foot, but she certainly wasn't going to consumed by the 'aftermath' of their cock up. Whatever had happened to bring this mansion into disarray was unfixable. The best thing for it now was see it go up in smoke. But that wasn't her main priority. Her own life and those of her remaining comrades ranked top of the list.

Trying to hold her head up high, she stepped back out into the gloomy corridor.

As she rounded the corner, somewhat aloof with her thoughts, she wasn't prepared for the next assault that came bursting through the one of the murky windows. The dirty glass exploded inwards, raining across the suddenly shrieking medic as two shackled arms plunged through the freshly made opening in an attempt to reach her. Rebecca fell to the side, the lightning fast skeletal fingers just catching the sleeve of her t-shirt. But the grip was feeble and simply fell away as the cotton material tore at the seam.

Rebecca braced her arms out to take most of the impact as she fell against the opposite wall. She rolled to her right, keeping out the way of the long arms lashing about furiously. The sturdy shackle was like that of a sledgehammer whistling heavily through the air. The clanking of the chains mixed horrifically with the hoarse wails of a creature formally a woman, whose sweet voice had broken into a demented animal-like rasp a long time ago.

Back-peddling, Rebecca's pale face could not quite take in the sight before her. The poor creature was but a wasted figure, filthy rags draped on what was portrayed as a very exaggerated caricature of a womanly shape. Though she was emaciated, skin so drab and grey it appeared the life in her had faded away years ago, there was no weakness in her. In fact, the demented harpy seemed to have more strength to her then Rebecca.

Her face was mostly concealed beneath what looked like a huge mass of putrefying flesh. It took her a moment to realise that it was actually made up of torn faces badly sewn together. She gasped, clamping a hand to her mouth to fight off the urge to throw up.

The beastly woman hung in the frame for a moment, taking the time to stare at the young medic with a scrutiny obscured by madness. Rebecca could see a crack in the rotting mask, and there beneath she could catch a glimpse of the real face of this former woman, now nothing more then a shrunken skull whose skin had since melted off.

The arms reached out for her again, her moans more pitiful then anything now, the fingers clenching and unclenching as if begging to be held, to be relieved of its pain with a little compassion. But that dead eye Rebecca had glimpsed into couldn't possibly understand those tender emotions now. Creatures of the virus were created for death.

If she dropped her guard again, she would end up dead like the rest of her team.

Rebecca left the creature struggling on the window ledge, howling for all 'she' was worth, and ran for the exit around the other side of the corridor.

Barrelling through into the gloomy intersection beyond, she jolted when she found herself staring at another of the 'Hunter' in the corridor directly forward.

It roared when its beady eyes locked on its prey.

Rebecca took off down the right hand passage without hesitation, keeping as calm and focused as she could even with the sound of clicking claws pounding the wooden floor in a hasty pursuit.

She noticed the door on the end had been removed and she cursed somewhat. A much needed barrier had been taken away from her, and she didn't know if she'd make the dining room door before it caught up to her. And right now, it was within striking distance.

The minute her foot landed on the carpeting of the next corridor, she latched her hand onto the doorframe and used the momentum gained from her run to swing herself around to her right, spinning out of the away of the sudden dash attack the creature attempted. Instead of decapitating her, it ended up ramming into the wall ahead, stunning itself.

The Beretta would be no good, as she'd previously found out. So, it was time to try another weapon. With the creature temporarily dazed, she had time to unzip her pack and removed one of the small bottles of acid. She'd not made use of the situation last time, but this time, she'd most certainly put it to the test.

As it snapped around, she threw the jar right into gaping face. The reaction was instant. Fireworks of spitting liquid and melting flesh. The now blinded creature shrieked as it thrashed about, clawing at its face trying to stop the burning, but only ended up tearing more of its dissolving flesh off. Rebecca didn't stick around to view the morbid show as she ran and exited into the dining room. Not knowing how much fight the creature had, she sprinted as fast as she could down the length of the room to find impermanent sanctuary in the main hall.

As she stepped panting from the doorway, she noticed instantly the piece of paper that was tied around the closest rail post by an old piece of string. She slowly made her way over to the stairs. As she sat down, she tugged the paper free and glanced over the pencilled contents.

It was as Chris promised. A note with new information.

'_Rebecca,_

_Was unable to locate the others. Though, I saw an unidentified figure making their way outside. They used a passage we missed earlier in the bottom courtyard where the waterfall was. Whatever's down there could be a crucial to our investigation. It may also lead us to a safe means of escape. I don't know if the others have found this path yet, but I figure if we have been unable to find them in the mansion, they may have gone on ahead. I shall go secure the area. Follow as soon as you can._

_Chris'_

Underneath the brief note were a couple of directions that described the route back down to the court, mentioning the use of the second lift in the first courtyard now that the pool was refilled, blocking the first pathway.

_And here was I getting used to getting a map… _She snorted, the last bit of humour in her wasted in the silence of the empty room. _… well, at least he wrote me out a shortcut. _Folding the piece of paper into her pocket, she turned on her heel and trotted up the stairs.

Earlier, her interest was what was behind the secret door in the painting. Now she would finally get to use to, not that she'd have much surprise to what would be in on the other side. Chris had given that away in his directions.

The graveyard was a modest yet sorry looking patch of ground. The little nook was painted in all it cramped misery under the moonlight, seeping through the mass of thick overhanging trees. Little headstones peeked meekly through the overgrown grass left to swallow up all residing under the pitifully unattended sward. Between the small cordoned areas was the infamous crypt, surrounded by black iron bars leading down to its entranceway.

In the forefront, playing overture to the graves was a flat stone terrace, illuminated prominently by a brass-framed lamp hanging above the granite steps, on which Rebecca was standing after exiting from the back of the mansion. Clearly distinguishable across the way were two zombies lapsed across the threshold of stone paving and grassy turf. They would not pose no threat to her. Both their heads were decimated by a powerful gun. Chris and the magnum, she deduced.

She stepped down and around the stone walkway, keeping her gun up just for precautions sake.

To the right further down the building was a metal fencing, caging around a small barren area. Nothing particularly special about the cracked stone and weed infested nook, except the interesting entrance made in the side of the wall, revealing the gallery she'd visited earlier. Chris had pointed out this shortcut, which would at least save her from having to go back through the eastern side of the mansion and possibly engage another of those 'Hunter' monsters.

She twisted the stiff iron handle and pushed open the rickety gate, its rusty hinges whining tiredly in response. Inside the gallery, the crows cawed in agitation to the shrill sound though made no effort to move from their perch. Rebecca chose to ignore them as she passed hastily through. They did just the same, preening themselves as they'd been doing before being disturbed.

As she stepped outside the back entrance, the clatter of her footfalls awoke a dog curled up on the wall. It lifted its head up slowly, revealing its wasted face - the skin and fur on one side peeling away in thick clumps, hanging off the bone unnoticed as it started to salivate at the sight of the young woman. Its one remaining ear pricked up and it started to get to its feet, though not as quickly as she would have expected. It was shaky on its spindly legs, the muscles exceptionally withered with maggots crawling in and out of the open wounds. Its growl was a pitiful huff that seemed to mostly whistle out through a chest gash. It may have had the will to fight, but its body certainly wasn't up to it.

Not even giving it the chance to jump down from its patch, she shot the piteous beast until it crumpled off backwards into the thick shrubbery behind the wall. Without further hesitation, she ran for the door to the shed, not wanting to meet any of its friends.

Passing straight through, she stepped back out into the top courtyard, taking the turning straight left and heading down the small side alley, minding not to trip over the clutter of gardening equipment. Something caught her attention inside a rusty old wheelbarrow, leaning up against the wall like a weary solider. Sitting a top a pile of burst bags of compost, was surprisingly, a clip of 9mm ammunition. Fifteen beloved bullets ready for use. God must have been smiling down on her favourably.

She took it without question.

As Chris had said, there was indeed a second lift at the end of the narrow path, which gained access into the rear end of the lower courtyard. She located a panel on the railing and hit the single button there to recall the elevator, which took only a few seconds to climb back up. She boarded and descended into the quiet expanse. Quiet for the fact the water sound from earlier had disappeared. The waterfall had been stopped.

Though at that moment, her attention was drawn to the corpses littering the two separate levels. Her nose had caught the stench of death even before she'd reached the bottom level, making her eyes water to the ripeness of the odour. The bodies were of dogs and crows, all executed with great accuracy. Chris had certainly done a good job securing the area.

_But this could be down to the others. Maybe they cleared the area before he arrived._ She certainly hoped this was the case.

Climbing up the steps, she approached the slim, wet walkway with an edge of apprehension. She had no clue what lay beyond this new opening, Chris had not left her any information beyond directing her there. Licking her suddenly dry lips, she proceeded through the dripping entrance.

The chill beyond brushed against her arms and cheeks like a ghostly breath. The tunnel's semicircle surface was that of sharp rocks, which started to draw in somewhat on the narrow path, lined further down by a cluster of candles of either side of the cavernous corridor. The drips of water echoed around her, the sound seeming to travel quite a distance in the hollow, lonely crevice. As much as a part of her screamed to turn back, she forced herself on, one careful step after another.

It was a few yards on before her foot came to a ledge, kicking pebbles off into corridor below. She gasped despite herself, realising how careless she'd almost been.

Bolted into the rock, the only form of entry, was a sturdy ladder. _Well, here I go… _She turned and, bracing her hands on the ledge as her foots sort out the steps, moist from the dampness lingering in the air. Clutching the metal tightly, she clambered down into the gloomy underground.

Her eyes took time to adjust to the minimal lighting, most of which was provided by a light source somewhere further down around a sharp corner. To her immediate right was a wrought-iron door. Temptation wanted her to try the door first, but she decided to chose what seemed like the safer option and check around the corner to see what she might find.

She kept close to the damp, stone walls, sloshing as quietly as she could through the puddles that had gathered in the dipped pathway. Her ears were pricked, listening as best she could for any other sounds. Aside the drone of air swishing through the cavern and the water drops pitter-pattering from top to floor, it was deathly quiet.

She cautiously rounded the corner, gun thrust up as she jumped into her last step, expecting the unexpected.

But she was safe. Nothing there to harm her.

A bright lamp was sat in a wooden alcove that used to be the entrance to a mining shaft, now converted into some sort of storage area. An old typewriter, sodden work papers and an ink ribbon occupied grimy surface. Across from it was an old trunk, its leather hide battered and peeling away from its timber frame. She took a moment to glance inside.

Mining tools. Picks, hammers, torches, helmets, gloves… The usual foray. Though what stood out to her was a notebook tucked down the side. She plucked it out, wiping the dust from its torn red cover. She unclasped the broken latch and looked inside. It was diary come log book, most of which seemed to document activities in the underground. Work schedule with times and dates, names of specific workers with numbers against them which she didn't understand… nothing useful. Though something struck her with great unease when her page-skipping brought her close to the back part of the book. It was the last page with writing on it, with the last few left completely blank. The words were a complete change of context and tone.

'_Its no good. However many times I've formulated a plan of escape, I've been thwarted by unforgiving circumstances. I have come to the realisation that there is no way out, and that my life shall expire in this God forsaken place. I've had to shoot some of the kindest, friendliest men I've ever come to know because of the virus. Why weren't we prepared for a situation like this? Umbrella will certainly pay for this if news ever reaches the outside world…'_

The passage ended there, the ink trailing off into a thick dark blotch. Part ink, part blood. No signature or any sort of indication to who the writer was, neither there or in any other part of the book. Rebecca folded the book closed and placed it back in the trunk, swallowing with some struggle.

No. Way. Out.

She didn't want to believe that couldn't possibly be true , not for a single second unless she wanted to submit to madness.

A door slamming from around the corner she'd come jolted her from her fretting thoughts. Trotting back to the corner, she just caught sight of the quickly retreating figure. A blonde man in a black and navy S.T.A.R.S uniform.

"Captain Wesker!" Relief welled in her chest as she rushed to the ladder after him. Her voice echoed loudly around the cave though it surprised her that he didn't seem to hear her call. She hit the bottom of the ladder as he disappeared over the top ledge. She scrambled to catch up. "Captain! Wait!"

Her hand caught the top ledge and she hoisted herself up and over, but found the walkway already empty, the echo of his footsteps having faded away moments ago. She barrelled down towards the entrance, skidding on the wet path as she re-entered the courtyard. She fell flat on her rear.

"Damn it!" She hollered, cursing her own clumsiness. Glancing around the area, her thoughts abandoned the throbbing pain in her rear when she realised she couldn't see him anywhere in the courtyard.

Captain Wesker had vanished into thin air.


	17. Chapter 17: The Last Bravo

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is __ to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**Chapter 17: The Last Bravo**

Rebecca slowly pushed open the iron door from which the Alpha S.T.A.R.S Captain had just previously exited. If she'd had any common sense, she'd have avoided discovering what lay beyond. If her normally nonchalant Captain had run away in what appeared to be blind fear, then whatever resided in the depths of these caves certainly must have being a terrifying being to behold.

Of course, her common sense had fleeted long ago with her rational thinking and she simply relied on her sanity to hold up just a little longer.

As she stepped into the gloomy, rocky corridor beyond, she felt the temperature drop drastically. It was almost liked she'd entered a freezer. A shuddering breath hung in the air long after she'd exhaled, drifting down the make shift granite staircase. The hum of distance machinery sang a very hollow tune in the narrow space, supported by a chorus of water droplets splattering down the already slick steps.

There was some nostalgia brought up by this tight little tunnel. Once, a long time back, she'd been on a class field trip to a cluster of caves. Not that she could remember the name of the place offhand. What was clear to her was the similarities of the temperature shockingly cold on her skin, the narrowness of the walkway, the damp plopping ice water around her, and especially the glitter of rock crystals imbedded into the jagged walls. Back then she'd had nothing to fear but slipping down the steps.

Now, she feared everything.

Treading with great care, she wound down the uneven, twisting steps, bracing her hand to the icy walls every time she felt her foot unwontedly slide. At the bottom of the steps was a second iron door, more rusted then the first from the moisture in the air. She was a bit more hesitant to push her way into the next room. Whatever had disturbed her Captain's calm demure had to be close and was probably extremely dangerous. But curiosity was just too much as she held her breath, twisting the handle down and pushed the creaky door inward.

The thrum of an active generator echoed louder throughout the larger room in which she stepped. She'd expected some hellish cage room filled with zombies and other hideous monsters, though instead she was stood in a greyish glowing space which appeared to be used for mining.

From the entrance, she was but a few paces from a square walkway surrounding a central elevator shaft, of which the main elevator itself was nowhere to be seen. Heading to lean over the dusty rail, she found that she couldn't see far down below before the cavity plunged into a misty darkness.

The nervousness she'd felt before began to wane somewhat as she realised that she was well and truly alone. For what she expected, she was riding an anti-climactic rollercoaster, confused why her Captain ran away. What had he been running from? He couldn't have gone down to wherever the elevator was without taking it. Though she still had so much left of the area to search. Her gut twisted at the thought of what was to come.

Moving clockwise around the rusted banister, she passed a small area to the north where a control panel for the elevator's power core was set. Though battered and aging, its mechanical purr was clear and sharp throughout the grotto.

In the top right hand corner was a separate, thin passage that led to another rusty metal door. Her next destination…

But just as she took her first steps into the narrow space, there was a raucous clunk from overhead machinery as suddenly the thick cables cawed tiredly as the elevator began to rise back up to the top platform.

Rebecca stayed at the edge of the corridor, her gun on standby.

_Chris? _She couldn't be sure.

The elevator came back into sight, carrying one passenger. It wasn't Chris.

Though at first she was nervous by the unknown man at the controls, her spirits lifted as her eyes befell the back of the man's red flak vest. The word S.T.A.R.S was very promising.

She'd found another Alpha team member.

The new comer, who'd originally had his back to her, turned as he stepped off the elevator. He was a tall, bulky man, carrying himself in a rather deflated manner. He ran a tired a hand down his face, dragging his fingers particularly hard across his auburn beard. Though he appeared to have a lot on his mind, his senses were still keen as he quickly sensed out her presence. Before she knew it, she was facing the barrel of his .357 calibre weapon.

She gasped, taking a quick step back into the wall. Her hands instinctively went up, offering no threat.

"Don't shoot!" She implored, uncertain by the man's uneasy facial expression twitching away, showing how close to the edge he was. After what felt like an eternity, he slowly lowered his weapon, seeming to relax a little. She inwardly sighed with relief.

He blew out a breath he'd been holding during that near-endless moment. "God, you scared me." He placed his gun back into his shoulder holster. She noticed his hands had been shaking the whole time.

"Had me worried there for a moment." She crossed the distance, offering a friendly smile despite her nervousness. "I'm Rebecca Chambers, Bravo team. I'm guessing you must be Barry."

"That's right. Barry Burton, Alpha team. I'm sorry our first meeting has been in such unpleasant circumstances."

She shrugged. "It can't be helped." Feeling her usual awkwardness build up again, she tried to focus on her duties to maintain her courage. "Have you seen Chris around? Or Jill? Or Captain Marini?"

"You haven't found Enrico yet?" There was a sharp surprise in his voice that confused her greatly. She couldn't gain much from his expression as he seemed to have a whole horde of emotions overrunning him at that present time.

"Uh… No, I haven't." She brightened up a little. "Have you seen him? Is he around here?"

"I'm surprised you hadn't found him yet… You were in the area and all…" He was more talking to himself then he was to her. Softly, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "He's in the next room to this," he said, crestfallen. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but…" He looked down, struggling to find the words to end the sentence.

A tightness formed in her chest, and she too, let her head droop forward. "He's dead…" She took the burden away from him, the words but a whisper.

Barry fended off the emotion by clearing his throat, straightening his shoulders in an effort to maintain his strength. "It would be best if you didn't see him like that. Better to remember him alive then as a corpse." She simply nodded in agreement. "Besides, the room is a dead end."

"Was there anything at the bottom of the elevator shaft?"

He stepped around to lean on one of the railings. "Nothing useful."

She sighed. "And you haven't seen the others?"

"Chris? No. Last time I saw him was when we were chased towards the mansion by the dogs. And Jill…" There was some hesitation, like he wanted to say something, but in the end held back. "… I thought I saw her around here somewhere. I'll keep looking."

"I saw Captain Wesker. He fled from this area earlier." She noticed him stiffen for second at the mention of the man's name, though seemed to relax again quickly, acknowledging her statement with a nod of the head. "It was strange though. He ran from here like something was chasing him, yet I've found nothing. I just can't figure it out. What could have got him so spooked?"

"Couldn't say," he said, shrugging and turning away, unholstering his weapon again, "but you shouldn't worry," he informed her in an unusually dismissive tone for the situation. "He can take care of himself."

"We should locate the others and stick together," she suggested. "Its too risky for us all to keep going on alone."

He paused and turned back. "There's still a lot of ground to cover. It would be quicker for us to split up for now and regroup back here. I want to keep this area covered in case Jill comes back."

His commanding tone said he wouldn't be argued with. Even though she was fed up with splitting from her companions, she decided to go along with his plans for now. "Okay. I'll explore further into the caves. I promise I won't go too far."

"If you find anything, come back straight away."

"I will." No other words passed between them and Rebecca went about her duty, leaving him alone in the mining room.

In a way, a part of her was glad she hadn't teamed up with Barry. There was just something odd about his manner. The uneasiness that seemed to flow off of him, lingering in his eyes and every expression. And how he seemed to know more then he was saying. He couldn't hide his emotions very well. And notably, he was especially inconsiderate of his own Captain.

Barry Burton seemed quite disturbed.

Giving him the benefit of the doubt, this situation was enough to unhinge any sane person, though everyone else she'd met up with had seemed to have coped a little better then he had. But then again, there seemed to be more left unsaid to what was going on with Alpha team's back up man. And she guessed she'd find out sooner rather then later.

* * *

A private booth. Television and audio equipment across three of the four walls. A figure entered the little sanctum, slightly a glow by the screens buzzing static. Taking up the leather seat, he placed a box full of tapes on top of one of the panels. Each cassette was marked with a white strip of paper that was imprinted with red text clearly designating a date to each one. The figure plucked out one marked with 'JUNE 15TH 1998'. He leaned forward and placed the video into the VCR inbuilt into the system.

After a moment of flickering through channels, the screen came up on clear black and white image, the time ticking away on that day that had been June 15th. The room depicted was a storage closet. The lines of shelves were overflowing with folders, jars, boxes, stationary, medical implements… all in disarray. But that's not what interested the viewer. It was the woman who was cowering against the closest shelf in the foreground. Her lab coat over blouse and knee length skirt were tattered and wrinkled. She'd been in those clothes for days. Weeks even.

The figure knew who she was. Dr. Critchner, one of four women posted at the Spencer Mansion facility. By far she'd been the smartest. A real asset to her profession. Not that he'd liked her much. Behind her baby doll looks was a haughty, overly-opinionated wench who'd always sneered over her shoulder when people didn't listen to her ideas. He found it a humorous contrast to see her cowering so pitifully on the floor.

There was no sound to the video, though by her sudden jump, he easily guessed that something loud had banged off screen.

She was scrambling up to her feet, dirty and bare. She'd usually sported ridiculously high shoes. Fear, unfortunately for her, made no room for the ego.

Her chest heaving rapidly, her eyes wildly darting. Something had her panicky. She moved closer to the camera unwittingly, letting the viewer get a better look of her terrified face.

The figure smiled. Her fear made for good television.

And then it happened. Her death. The action so swift that she never saw it coming. From above her, two dark stick thin arms reached around her neck and lifted her up. She thrashed around as slowly put surely her frame disappeared out of shot. He could imagine her screaming, wondering in those last few seconds she deserved such a horrible fate. The last shots in that lonely little room were of dark drops dripping past the screen. Dr. Critchner's blood.

Then it switched to a view of the gardens, only for a brief moment before the tape ran out.

He ejected the cassette and turned it around, flipping up the protective back cover to reveal the brown tape beneath. Without hesitation, he pulled it out, winding it around his hand until it came to the end, and swiftly snapped it off. Easily pulling apart the flimsy material, he tossed it and its covering into a trash can.

One down, many more to go. The truth of the mansion would be lost in eternal silence.

* * *

Returning to the first tunnel, Rebecca worked her way back around, past the trunk and the closed off shaft, around to the last part of the corridor she'd yet to step upon.

The middle section looked like it had specifically been cut out, lower in the ground and further indented into the wall then the other parts. The part in the ceiling was even missing. It was almost as if it had been modified…

To her left, protruding from the wall, was a crank. Something told her that the two were interlinked. Though, she couldn't understand why such a thing would be created. Security, maybe? Another strange trap? Whatever reason, the twisted crossing made it seem like few were meant to know what was beyond.

She delicately tapped her foot on that lowered ground, then harder just to test its strength. When she realised it was a solid mass, she strode across to the other side where a single door awaited her imbedded into the rock.

The tunnel beyond was misshapen, damp and crumbling from damage that seemed to have been done to the structure. The wooden constructions there to hold up the rock bowed in deeply from the pressure though still managed to stand strong. She took a moment to gauge the danger of her environment. Besides a few pebbles popping down here and there, the battered tunnel seemed to be holding up.

Stepping out from the entranceway, she first turned right to a cramped walkway that only got smaller as it ascended up into a dead end caused by a collapse of rocks and the wooden supports. And down to the left, she found an interesting sight.

A boulder. Its huge mass was wedged into the far wall, after what she'd deduced, it had damaged the wall that had previously been in place. Stepping into the opening, she found that a few steps away in the right wall was a set of double doors.

_Where do they lead to, I wonder?_

She heaved open the heavy latch and pushed both doors wide open.

The sight of the huge charred spider curled up in the centre of the web-wrapped room was shocking. Its carcass was much bigger then any of the spiders she'd encountered thus far. Luckily for her, it was dead.

She released the doors, allowing them to close behind her with a clank as she proceeded into the large room. Everything was spun in white silky threads, an eerie hollow hole consumed and transformed into a spider's lair. Whatever the room had been before had long ago been claimed by the eight-legged leviathan.

Directly across from her was another set of doors, freed of the webbing. One of the others had to be close. The corpse before her was still fresh, as was the smell of smoke and burnt flesh.

She pressed on towards the opposite doors, reaching out for the silk-laden handle just at the same moment a small portion of rock dust crumbled from the ceiling onto her hand. It was enough to startle her to look up. And she was glad she did.

The spider hanging in the gloomy shadows may have been half the size of the crispy critter on the ground, but it was certainly frightening in its own right. It bared its long fangs at her and leapt. And at the same time, she too, moved. In the blink of an eye, she was rolling across the floor, and the hulking spider behind had been inches away from landing on top of her.

The web-clogged floor made it hard to scramble, but just feeling the brush of one of its large hairy legs against her own made her work harder to get away. She picked herself up from the ground, almost tripping up over balls of netted silk. Turning, she gasped as the creature lifted up its front legs, rearing back slightly as it opened its hideous mouth wide. An then, it spat at her. Thick acid spit.

She back-peddled just in time to avoid the corrosive substance spraying across the floor. It melted the webbing and some of the stone, sizzling and spitting fierily.

She dug her hand into her side pack, finding her own batch of acid, taking out the last three small jars. Putting more distance between herself and the creature, she waited until it was in mid-charge her before she tossed the first jar. Unable to avoid the 'weapon', It shattered across its back. It reared up, making what sounded like a hiss in pain as the wiry hair and skin burned away.

With the creature distracted, Rebecca didn't hesitate to hurl the other two jars on the offence. One smashed and splattered across two of the front legs and the other hit and landed just behind its head.

It thrashed around for a time in agony, though didn't go down.

It was going to take more then that to kill the monster.

Now its beady eyes was more focused on her then the pain, she had no choice but to run. The Beretta would be no good against this thing, and from her position, it would get to her just as she reached either of the double doors.

The corner to her left was stacked with heavy wooden crates. High up in the ceiling just above the top one, she could see a hole. Maybe, just maybe, if she clambered fast enough, she could get through and escape the monstrous arachnid. It certainly wouldn't fit through after - it would only just accommodate herself.

She bolted for the crates, precariously stacked together. She hoisted herself easily up on the first, though had to a little more difficulty getting a grip on the top edge of the next one, as the crate standing on top of it only left a small ledge. Behind her, the spider skittered determinedly in hot pursuit.

She heaved up onto the second crate and managed swiftly to pull herself up onto the third. Two more and she'd make it, though not by much margin as her pursuer was starting to pull itself up also. Unfortunately for her, just as she clambered onto the fourth, the whole stack began to shake. With the weight of the spider and the instability of the top crates, the stack couldn't take the strain.

She braced herself in a sitting position on top of the crate, hanging on for dear live as she was pitched forward, the crate tumbling right into the path of the spider. The impact of heavy wood and beast tossed her off to one side, knocking the wind out of her as she landed sideward on the ground. Just to her right, the spider landed on its back with the crate right on top of it.

_CRUNCH!_

The sound send a shiver right up her spine. The spiders life's blood began to pool out from under the crate, signalling its demise.

Rebecca rested her head on her arms, breathed out a sigh of relief, unbelieving of how lucky she'd been.

_A four leaf clover, rabbits feet… They've got nothing on me… _Too bad she didn't have the energy to laugh.


	18. Chapter 18: Beyond the Grave

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is __ to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**Chapter 18: Beyond the Grave**

Hopelessness. It was all she could seem to feel with her world encased in stone. In the back of her mind, she wondered if hell was as horrifying as this soul-stealing abode.

No, hell didn't even compare.

Considering when a person was dead, they had nothing to lose. But she wasn't. She was alive. And she had everything to lose.

The further she went, the colder and more dreary it became. The young medic could smell and taste the air in all it bitterness and quivered in response as she forced herself to breath through her nose. A shudder crept over her when the dampness in the air clung to her skin, the consistency of it feeling more like oil then water.

Sweat budded across the skin of her neck and brow in fear of her isolated surroundings, but as it turned out, there was nothing there to be afraid of. She found no further enemies. In fact, there was no other soul in the depths on this cave, which proved to be much smaller then she'd expected.

She'd come to pass another boulder resting at the bottom of a sloping corridor. Her climb very quickly cut short as it was revealed there was no further path to take. Even the room she found in the left hand wall went nowhere. Simply a bizarre chamber occupied only by marble statues of saints.

She felt like a rat scurrying around in an seal labyrinth, with no hopes of ever getting out.

She wasn't sure if Chris had come this way or not, though she had yet to encounter him at all in the underground. And she'd found no secret passages as she meandered further into the semi-darkness. If there were any, she'd have spotted them in the narrow space. They wouldn't have been too hard to avoid with her arms nearly brushing the scraggly walls.

She didn't know whether to feel worried, or again, frustrated.

After the incident with the snake and plant, allowing him to run off on his own was just asking for trouble, but then again, she couldn't say much for herself. She usually invited trouble in some form anywhere she went. She had to keep her faith in him - trust, just like Richard had said.

Resigned to the fact that she wouldn't find a backdoor down there, she backtracked, minding not to slip on the wet jagged stones under foot. After her battle with the spider, everything had fallen into an eerie slumber. Scary in one way, relieving in another. All she had to be careful of now was not accidentally tripping and breaking her neck. That seemed the most dangerous thing at that present moment.

As she headed back out to the main passage, she made her way back to the mining room to see how Barry was doing. Though by the time she'd returned, he'd already disappeared.

Rebecca grumbled to herself, starting to become rather disenchanted by S.T.A.R.S.

Billy Coen had been much less frustrating that her comrades had been in the last few hours.

A part of her remained concerned for Barry's welfare, but another part told her that she was better off on her own. His behaviour had been unusually odd, enough to put her on edge. Something was going on with him, more then he'd been willing to say to her. Then again, they were relative strangers. It was hard to decide whether to cut him some slack or be wary.

With having returned to the area, she had the urge to go in and see Enrico. The last time she'd laid eyes on him was in that hidden facility when she was searching for Billy. It must have been twenty-four hours ago. He'd been calm and steely, like he'd been in complete control of the situation. How did someone as good an officer as he die? She hadn't asked Barry at the time, maybe because it had taken her aback. Morbid curiosity begged her to go into that room and see him, but she forced herself not. He was dead. Whatever had killed him had done its job and there was nothing she could do to change it.

_It would haunt you forever to see another person you know dead at your feet…_

Clearing her mind, her attention went to the elevator still sat at the top of the shaft. Someone could have used it in the time she had been further exploring the caves. Barry, Chris, Jill, maybe even Captain Wesker. She wanted to see for herself what was down there, hoping she'd be able to locate one of the others.

But as she came to stand in front of the control panel, she was surprised to find that the system had malfunctioned. All the little red warning lights on top of the console were blinking erratically as a thin stream of smoke drifting out of the back. Damp had gotten into the system, it with obvious by the splattering of water running down the top. She wasn't going to touch it - not unless electrocution was her next plan of action.

_So much for going down… _There was nothing she could do, and simply had to give up on the idea. _But… Where the heck do I go now?!_

Where could she go? The caves were a dead end, the residence was a dead end… Everyone had disappeared to God knows where, and there she was, left all on her own and on the verge of despair.

She might have started to go crazy, if not for suddenly drawing a thought up on Captain Wesker. He'd headed back outside in his desperate panic, and she wouldn't have thought he'd have returned. She pondered for a moment, thinking he could have gone in either two directions. To the residence, which seemed a rather futile venture, or back to the mansion, which seemed like a pointless backtracking effort, but yet there were areas she knew that were yet unexplored. And if she forced herself to look harder, she might actually find out the location of the helipad.

As much as she hated to, she returned to the mansion.

* * *

The Raccoon Police Department was quiet for once.

The cops on the night shift were well underway into their spell of duty. There were a couple of patrols out on the streets, reporting thus far no criminal activity. Whoever was left on standby as the back up teams were left drinking watery tea as they tried to stay awake at their desks. For everyone, it was going to be a long night.

Two specific officers in particular - Kevin Ryman, a young up-and-comer and his superior, veteran officer Marvin Branagh, had been put on the switchboard that night in the S.T.A.R.S. office. With both teams out on call with regards to the infamous 'cannibal' case, the Deputy Chief had put them on board monitor duty for the night.

Neither man knew too many details about the S.T.A.R.S. mission. It wasn't their business after all. It had been passed onto them when the body count in the forest had doubled overnight.

What they had been told in this situation was that Bravo team had experienced technical problems and had required back up. Alpha team had flown out six hours prior, exactly twenty four hours after Bravo's dispatch. Since then, there had been no word from either group.

Sitting with only a few lights on over their heads in the gloomy, quiet office, both men were starting to wear down. Fatigue was a nasty weight they couldn't shake off. Marvin was used to working late, but was not caffeinated enough to be really focused. He cursed the coffee machine for breaking down again. In desperation, he'd tried some of the watery tea on offer, but it had turned his stomach after half a cup. He was hoping that newbie officer Rita Cowell would be along soon, as she'd promised she'd run out on her break to go to Emmy's Diner and get some coffee's to go. He was holding up well enough on the bagels his wife had bagged up for him, but as soon as he reached the last crumb, he knew he'd be in trouble.

Kevin beside him chose to fidget about instead to keep himself awake and active. Of course, that wasn't the only reason. There was a certain schoolboy enjoyment in him from spending time in the S.T.A.R.S. office. He was still holding hopes that one day he'd finally make it into the group.

Even though he was an excellent young officer with a lot of credit under his belt, he'd still failed the entrance exam twice to enter the prestigious unit. Though still eager, he was bitter that seemingly less experienced people had managed to get in with little effort, especially an eighteen-year-old child prodigy turned medic. That stung him the most.

"You know… This is crap," Kevin said after a short period of silence, listening to the faint buzzing of the radio console in front them. "We could be out on patrol or listening to Andy telling one of his stupid jokes. Instead we get this."

Marvin didn't even look at him as he flicked through the pages of a newspaper from two days ago. "Stop griping, man. There're worse jobs you could be doing."

"What? Like scrubbing a toilet? At least I'd be doing something instead of listening to this white noise shit…"

"I thought you'd love this. Sort of like your first official S.T.A.R.S. duty."

Kevin scoffed, putting his feet up on the edge of the console, rocking back and forth. "Yeah right. This is just them finding lackeys to do the boring shit." He pulled a packet of salted chips from his trouser pocket, hoping to find some comfort in his favourite snack. "Dooley has it so fucking good! He's not even in S.T.A.R.S. and they keep roping him into their jobs."

Marvin smirked a little. "Not long before they end up drafting him in permanently." He knew that would ruffle his feathers. The stare he received was an icy one, and would have be taken seriously if not for the slight pout that had formed. That made him laugh. "Man, you're too easy. Besides, why piss on Dooley's good fortune? The guy is one of the few good pilots in the area and S.T.A.R.S. need the best they can get." Kevin started to scowl more. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get your break someday soon." Feeding his ego at least released his tension and evaded an upcoming fight, which Marvin thought might have been quite entertaining, but then again, he was too tired to bother.

"Third time will be my lucky break," Kevin assured himself. "I've got a good feeling."

Marvin said nothing. Who knew if Kevin was really S.T.A.R.S. material. He was amazing with a gun. He'd entered enough of the competitions run by the precinct to prove that, even though his abilities never quite matched up to those of Chris Redfield and Forest Speyer. Overall, Kevin was a pretty decent cop. Marvin could vouch for him easily. But that wasn't what cut the cheese. Everyone who'd made it into S.T.A.R.S had more then one extraordinary skill, which made them stand out ten times more for recruitment.

Marvin, himself, admittedly envied them a lot. He was a good cop - in fact, he was a fantastic cop. One of the best in the station. But he was not quite on their level. Sure he had been promoted to lieutenant and had a few officers under his jurisdiction, but there were not many prospects for further promotion. Chief Irons had his favourites, and even those were few and far between. The ass kickers were the ones who ended up climbing the ranks. He'd just couldn't do that, especially not with someone like Irons, who was a grimy, old bastard, obsessed more with himself then anything else.

Rita's entrance interrupted any further dismal thoughts, and they turned to greet her and the smell of coffee wafting around her like a beautiful perfume.

"I bring supplies!" She revealed a packet of shortbread rounds as she set the two cardboard coffee cups at the desk to the side of them. From her back pockets she fished out cream and sugar. "How's everything going?"

"Crap." Kevin would have gulped down the coffee if it wasn't still pretty hot. "Nothing happening."

Rita offered a sympathetic smile. "Same downstairs. Everyone's run out of jokes. They're just throwing paperclips at Roy now, the poor guy."

Marvin stirred a packet of sugar into his drink. "If this keeps up, we'll all be out of our jobs."

"Fucking shit that crime decided to take a night off." Kevin turned to Rita. "You seen the Chief about? If he's gone home then I'm taking an extra long break."

"Oh, he's still here. Skulking around in a foul mood." She brushed a hand over her short crop of blonde hair. "Which means I shouldn't hang around here for too long, otherwise he might kick my ass."

Marvin glanced over his shoulder as she headed for the door. "Hey, Rita?" She glanced back, hand on the door. "If you can sneak in a beer, I think we could both use one right about now." She grinned, winked and left.

Kevin whooped. "You talk my language, old man!"

"Don't call me old man." Marvin turned back to his paper as Kevin proceeded to fall off his chair. He should have listened to his mother when she'd told him not to rock his chair.

Time passed and the silence continued. Not a single message come through. Both started to become uncertain of what was actually happening with either teams. Someone should have called through by then to report on the situation.

Marvin sipped his coffee, frowning away with concern. _I wonder what the hell is going on out there…_

* * *

Rebecca stepped back into the main hall through the door at the top of the stairs. The scent of the summer night carried in on a shallow breeze, drifting over her shoulder as she hesitated on the threshold between the extravagant room and the outside world. She inhaled the sweet aroma, a combination of fresh grass and wild flowers, quickly turned sour by the bitter perfume of death that could not be so easily swept away by the wind. Sighing, she closed the door with a faint click behind her.

Always when she'd passed through this hall it had been a lonely shell pretending to be something quite regal. It was all a front for something quite sinister. She couldn't be sure how rooted the evil was in the mansion, though within Umbrella's clutches, she had a feeling that it hadn't just simply been dragged into the hellish conflict, though had rather been a point of its beginning. There was just something in her discoveries that made this plausible.

Truthfully, she had no desire to go crawling further into the mansion's depths, trying to prove her thoughts true. Her heart was set on making an escape. How would the world know of these horrors if she didn't survive? All she had to do was find the helipad and see if any vehicles were left. She worried for her comrades, but what could she do if she couldn't find them? She couldn't hang around there forever. She'd have to do something, even if she had to leave by herself. First, she needed a plan. Thus far she'd been following the instructions of her comrades, most of whom had rather had left her behind. It made her feel even more pathetic then she already did. They probably hadn't done it on purpose, but she couldn't help feeling hurt. But she'd do whatever they said no matter what, because she was loyal through and through.

Considering her options, she had very little left, though she was determined to find the helipad and use one of the vehicles there. If hardly any of the mansion's residents had escaped the clutches of the virus, then there might have been a car or a truck left for her to commandeer. If she could just get back to civilisation, she could send for help. If it wasn't too late for the others…

_God, please let me meet up with them again…_

A scream suddenly ripped through the hall, a hideous sound rising up out of nowhere. It reminded her of the sounds made by the pitiful creature that had lunged through the window at her earlier.

The fact the sound had come from below brought a sudden twinge in her chest. A basement! There had to be! But where was the entrance? And did she dare go down?

She plodded down the stairs, just as another shriek came, sounding less pained and more furious. She noted with sudden interest that the sound now drifted not simply from below, but from behind her. Turning as she stepped off the last step, she remembered the two arches just behind the stairs leading down onto another level.

She'd already been down one side, and there had been nothing to see. All that remained there now was Forest's corpse. On the other side, she didn't know. She'd yet to investigate.

Stepping quickly around the left hand banister, she headed under the arch way, jumping down the steps and into the narrow corridor.

Directly to her right were two large gates. The thick iron bars looked like they had been made out of plated gold. The patterns incorporated were something to marvel over with their sleek and curvy designs. Notably standing out on two mounts on each gate were emblems of the same design as she'd seen on the 'key' that had been used to unlock the back door to the shed.

_The gateway to heaven or hell, I wonder?_

Through the wide bars she could see beyond into a brightly lit albeit bleak corridor that within a few paces disappeared down a flight of steps.

As she took hold of the large handles, the wails of the deformed woman once more cried out with chilling anguish. The sound was quickly followed by a barrage of gunshots. Rebecca pressed herself to the gates, eyes wide with horror as her ears were bombarded with a mixture of frightening sounds - the scraping of chains, more screaming like nails on a chalkboard and repeated gun fire that left an echo drifting coldly up the plunging steps beyond.

Swallowing her horror, she pushed the heavy gates open and proceeded through. As she released them, they swung back into place with a loud clang that reverberated through the corridor.

The ruddy tiles at her feet was slick with dirt, some markings picking out fresh wet footprints. Not just one distinctive set, but multiple. It was hard to say how many people had passed through before her.

She cast a brief glance into an alcove just to the side of her where an old typewriter sat. The yellowing paper sat in it was printed with bold writing, clearly reading: 'Your death resides just below'.

_Lovely… _Another gurgling scream echoed around her. More shooting, and this time, voices followed. Two different ones, both male. But whose? She was too far away to make them out clearly.

Springing into action, she kept an arm outstretched towards the beige, water-damp walls as she proceeded with as much haste as she could down the wet stone steps. At the bottom in the corner sat a leather trunk, the top open. The contents were empty aside the odd cobweb clinging to the sides.

The turn to her right was sharp and proceeded down another set of steps. The lamp light above her head flickered, making the light much dimmer as she proceeded further down. The air was just as damp and sticky as the caves had been. Her skin tingled as she fought the urge to scratch the skin off her arms.

Another round of gunshots went off as she reached the base of the second stairs. She almost slipped on a wet patch on the next turn trying to pick up speed. She forced herself to calm down and take it steady.

Then came the longest most agonised cry the beast woman could emit. It lasted for almost a minute on end, her wails filled with babbled words that she couldn't quite interpret, slowly fading out as if disappearing further into the recesses of the underground. There was some talking between the men further down, but it didn't last long before everything went quiet again.

Rebecca forced herself down the next level of steps, the area now changing from smooth pale walls into dark ashen rocks that arched around her like bulging veins as if the cavernous corridor had taken on a life of its own. Her eyes twitched at the blinking bulb swinging gently on a line above her. Every few seconds she would fall into a darkness that stole her breath before the murky confines were relit again in all its ugliness.

After the last curved stone step, her feet came to rest on a wooden walkway bolted into the rock. Between the small gaps, there was nothingness. Only a dark hollow that could have descended for miles.

Swallowing, she took careful albeit hurried steps across the wooden path, hoping the creaky planks were stronger then they looked. Luckily for her, they were.

A mist rose up from below, almost making her cradle her arms around herself, though instead, she focused her hands on her gun, her fingers turning bone white from clutching the handle so tightly.

She hopped over a gap in the wooden walkway, kicking a few stray pebbles into the darkness. There was no sound to indicate they'd hit the bottom. Better them then her plummeting into a bottomless pit.

Right at the end of the uneven path was a bolted iron door, moss spreading across its thick exterior. The handle still had a lingering warmth to say it was recently used. Her heart thumped not only with excitement but with trepidation.

On the other side, her eyes squinted as the lighting diminished even more. No lamps or singular hanging bulbs, but rather a cluster of candles sat melting their wax atop the protruding rocks. From foot to knee level, they dotted the path from the barren entranceway down an uneven stairwell and into the area below. The shady interior conjured up images in her mind of a cult hideout. She even expected to hear some wild eyed man in a robe spitting chants and prophesies until his eyes bulged out his head.

At the bottom, the circular room loomed in on itself, sharp stems of rock hanging stiff from the ceiling above, forcing her to mind her head as she moved.

Directly in the middle of the room was a large hole surrounded precariously by metal grids clustered together against an opening where a ladder was connected. Her boots clattered loudly on the lattice metalwork as she went to look down below. Another pathway came into her sights.

She clambered onto the ladder, hoping that she didn't have much further to go to find the people she'd heard.

Burning torches provided a decent amount of light in the small chamber below. From the ladder, the path under foot was a standalone platform carved into a huge rock. Around it was chasm filled with a thick green-tinted fog.

There was no further path behind the ladder, simply a chain marking the end of the line. Turning around, she found herself staring at the centre of the platform - a U shaped dais surrounded by chains. Between the path lay a stone coffin.

What more surprised her was Captain Wesker was stood there at the head of the coffin where the lid was pulled back halfway. Slowly, he glanced over at her, not looking in the least bit surprised to her being there. His demure was very composed, unlike how she'd seen him before. Though, admittedly, she couldn't tell what emotions that had overtaken him before for him to have completed blocked her out.

"Captain Wesker!" The relief poured from her as she quickly hurried to where the coffin rested. Her eyes instantly went from her superior to the contents inside. A headless skeleton was the occupant.

From the large width of the hips and the slender breadth of the shoulders she knew without much guessing that it had once been a woman. She wondered why they had been buried her in such a dismal pit? Was it another crypt?

"Rebecca." The Alpha Captain's smooth, calm voice drew her attention to him. His expressionless face made her feel suddenly very small, even more so with the fact his eyes were hidden behind a dark pair of sunglasses. Why did he need them on in a dim place such as this? She wouldn't dare ask that though. "Report. What is the status of your comrades?"

She let out a quivering breath. "Dead, sir. All of them."

Wesker said nothing as he looked at her. His impassive appearance made her want to scream. Why didn't he react to the news?

_Maybe because he's a professional, unlike yourself! _Shame weighed on her as she realised how weak she was in comparison.

Finally, he spoke, glancing around him with obvious caution. "I see. This is an unfortunate turn of events." He stepped away from the coffin, his hand pushing off the lid, rattling a chain bolted into the top, that in turn, shook a number of chains and pulleys fixed into the crown of the cave. There was something quite spooky about the clinking metal hanging over her head. It made her think of a torture chamber, which it could have so easily been.

"What should we do now?" She asked softly.

Wesker glanced over the edge, his gun held up in a defensive position. A moment later, he glanced back at her.

"For now, we proceed forward. I shall hold my position temporarily to watch our rear defences. I don't know if you've had the misfortune of an encounter with a strange deformed woman…" She paused and nodded in response. "… But anyway, she is a very dangerous creature indeed. Practically unstoppable. Myself and Chris just managed to fight her off. She tumbled into the pit, though I have a feeling she isn't dead yet."

"Chris! He was here?" She thanked the Gods that he was safe.

"I sent him on in front to secure the area." He checked how many bullets were left in his gun. Satisfied, he snapped the chamber back into place. "You should go after him. He shouldn't be too far ahead."

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" She didn't really want to leave him there to face a dangerous creature if she was still around.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of things this end. I should join you soon." There was no point arguing with the S.T.A.R.S. leader, not that she would have ever tried. He was a scary presence without much effort on his part.

She nodded, though still felt anxious for him. "Yes, sir. Please take care." He gave a single nod in acknowledgement and she reluctantly walked off.

At the end of the platform was the exit. She could see in the top lip of the arch that rusty gate had be raised to allow passage. On either side were shattered pillars, the chips of which now crumbled into white dust under her feet. She proceeded through into the narrow strip, though gave a quick backwards glance towards Wesker, who seemed to be focused on his task at hand.

_God help us all… _She sucked in a deep breath and ran through the passage, startled by how suddenly bright it was. Eighty watt bulbs were blazing under their protective frosty-top covers along the rock face. It gave her a headache, but she hardly felt it worth complaining about.

As she came to the very end, she found a small platform built into the wall where an open, round elevator resided. It was a dirty, dinted platform that had been used countless times to account for its condition. She stepped on, turning to the thin surrounding bar where she located the small control panel. Only one button was inset with a clearly pictured arrow next to it. It indicated up.

Not brain surgery to know what it did. She pushed the clear button, which instantly lit up green, bringing the elevator to life. Clunking wearily, it began to rise up towards the surface.

The dampness in the air began to lesson, and she could suddenly clearly smell the night air once more, fresh and clear, and mercifully without the scent of rot wafting through.

As she reached the surface, stone was replaced by brick as the elevator came to stop in the upper housing. She felt much more relaxed now, despite the dangerous circumstances. She figured that having to go underground so much had drained her more then being in the house, and now outside, she was invigorated. She'd never felt so unhindered and alive before. Taking in a lungful of untainted air, she stepped out the open door onto the concourse.

Spindly trees hugged the edge of the little path leading out towards the courtyard to the right of her. But what really took Rebecca's keen interest was the huge steel shutter on the turn towards the yard. Beyond the spread of overgrown ivy, she found herself leaning back to stare up at the large metal walls. She had a feeling there must have been something important behind there, or it wouldn't have appeared so secure. Her hand rested on the huge back box protruding from the shutter door. The power source, she deduced. It was still warm and ready to use.

But there was no way to operate it. Not on this side anyway. Whatever lay beyond certainly couldn't be accessed from the outside. There had to be another entrance somewhere…

Behind her, something roared to life. She spun, running into the centre circle of the yard, where a large ornate fountain resided. Rotund, Greek vases and statues of exaggerated lions barely caught her attention as she came to an abrupt stop at the ledge. Where there would have been water was a deep opening, where a set of steps led to a caged elevator, which had just started to go down.

Inside, she could see Chris.

"CHRIS!" She hollered as loud as could, but her voice was easily drown out by the noise of the elevators mechanics. It rumbled heavily as it pitched the cage and her comrade into depths unknown.

**A/N: We're proceeding into the latter stages of the story. A few more chapters to go before the end. Pre-warning, though I have been following close as I can to some ideas from the game - mainly based on Rebecca's cut scenes, you may notice from now on changes occuring that will not match with the game but will be there for a good reason, which you will see in the end.**


	19. Chapter 19: The Bitter Truth

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is __ to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**A/N: Its been months since the last update. I have been really agonising over this chapter, trying to get in everything I wanted. There isn't much action going on, but I think the emotion towards the end of the chapter has been worth the wait.**

**Chapter 19: The Bitter Truth**

It was a long fifteen minutes to wait, but finally the elevator returned.

Empty, as to be expected.

She'd been fidgeting the entire time, anticipation brewing with the need to chase hot on the heels of her fellow S.T.A.R.S team mate. She couldn't count how many times she'd paced around the circumference of the fountain, kicking up dirt, weeds and stones with a frustration uncharacteristic of herself. Eventually her aching knees forced her to sit tiredly on the damp edge of the wall, the heaviness of the situation pressing over her battle weary body. Beating the brick face of the wall with her idly swinging legs, she'd cursed herself for not staying with Chris after the 'Hunter' encounter earlier. But she'd been no use to anyone then, and certainly felt no more useful now.

Anytime she'd been close to any of her comrades, something bad had happened.

_Now you know that's utter bullshit! _A part of her hissed with irritation. To even start thinking in such a manner was just begging for trouble, and this was certainly not the time for sinking into self-pity. She still had a duty to perform. Circumstances had been against them the whole time, but they'd done their best with what they'd got.

And it just happened that not everyone was able to survive the horror.

Sighing, she blamed her feelings on a lack of sleep. She hoped her nerves could stand up to the angst just a little bit longer. Indeed her state of mind was a questionable one, but her resolve had not changed; though her gut was letting her know that the elevator shaft was making her edgy.

How far below the surface did it go? Where would she end up when she reached the bottom?

There was only one way to find out.

Just before stepping out onto the staircase, she heard the faint buzz of her radio clipped to her belt. It was Brad's voice again, but the signal was weak. But she was certain he was close, as at one point, she'd heard the familiar sound of chopper distantly circumnavigating the mansion area. Though, her eyes saw nothing. And like before, she could not respond and his transmission faded out very quickly. If only he could get just that little bit closer, then maybe they'd have a better chance of communicating. But there was no point in worrying about it now, she had other things to deal with.

Rebecca descended the wet steps, ignoring the water still gently spewing from holes in the wall, allowing a faint mist spraying her shoulders and stepped inside the aging elevator. The control consisted of a pull handle - very old fashioned, she considered. As long as the thing didn't break down then she was satisfied with the contraption. She shoved the gate closed and cranked the handle down.

The machinery roared to life, temporarily drowning out her hearing, and the elevator with a wistful tremble made its descent from the surface. She glanced up towards the star-speckled sky fading away above her as she made a prompt descent. The glow of the moonlight diminished, and around her the shadows took a firm hold, leaving only a thick blanket of darkness. Even when her eyes began to adjust, she could only make out the shapes of the stones imbedded into the wall. She swallowed a lump in her throat, releasing a shuddering breath that hung in the air in a mist she couldn't see, but could feel for the little bit of warmth that remained momentarily.

Then, a break in the darkness. Orange lights appeared imbedded into the walls at intervals, which had now changed from the previous aging stonework into that of steel panels.

There were markings on the walls. Text written in red and black, though she couldn't read the words as the elevator descended too fast for her eyes to latch onto them for more then half a second. Finally the noisy machine showed signs of slowing, and she could finally read the words slowly drifting up past her: 'KEEP GATE CLOSED UNTIL ELEVATOR STOPS COMPLETELY'.

She swallowed heavily, glancing upward where she wished she could see sun and sky. The surface was but a memory, sweet but distant. And she couldn't stop herself descending further and further into hell.

Would she ever see the daylight again?

She hoped Wesker wouldn't wait too long to follow them. If they were going to get out soon, they couldn't waste anymore time.

The elevator reached the bottom, clunking heavily onto the base platform, leaving the air ringing for a few long seconds after. The main gate in front of her was already partially open, so she didn't need to push it any further to slip through, squinting as she passed under a stark light above her head burning brighter then it needed to be.

The only way around was to the left, past the hulking component that controlled the elevator. The heat it gave off was astounding, but also quite welcoming to dry off the chilling water that had clung to her arms.

Ahead of her, on the dirt smeared wall, she could just make out the chipped white text reading 'B-1'.

_One of many levels, _she mused with dismay.

She turned the corner, bypassing around the breadth of the elevator to come faced to face with a thick metal shutter, latticed over with thick fencing bars. The warning sign pinned to it was stark in its use.

'EMERGENCY EXIT: WILL NOT OPEN UNLESS IN FIRST CLASS EMERGENCY.'

"This is a first class emergency!" She couldn't help but seethe out loud as she pulled as the doors. They were firmly sealed. She huffed inwardly and turned her attention towards the ladder enclosed down to her left. Maybe to get the shutters to open she had to activate something below. What did she have to lose anyway?

_Everything! _But there was no other choice. And Chris had to have gone below. There was no other possible exit from the room then that of the ladder. Not wasting another moment in the room, she clambered onto the steps and proceeded downward.

She couldn't quite describe the mixture of smells assaulting her nose so violently. Disinfectant, or something of the type, hung strong along side the musty smell of damp. She thought she could smell both cresol and sulphur in the air, though she couldn't be sure. All she knew the combination left her feeling sickly. Though at least it didn't smell as deathly as the mansion had.

_I'm sure that'll quickly change…_

The room she'd entered was a entranceway of some sort, though it seemed to split its occupation with that of security room, reception and boiler room. There was a gentle hiss coming from one of the many thick cluster of pipes, bringing a warmth in with the mist into the tepid room. Directly to her left, crammed against the wall, was an old desk, strewn with papers and books. There was a pot of rusty keys, the labels around the tops peeled and torn, the numbers that should have been on them faded beyond reading. She would bear them in mind, though really didn't see them to be of any use to her. A typewriter on the far edge was leaking ink across a stack of paperwork that once long ago might have held some importance. She almost tripped over a swivel chair knocked over and broken in front of the desk. Someone had certainly been in a rush when they'd passed through there.

To her right was a trunk sat up against the other wall. Inside were a few segregated sections for folders, time cards, safety gloves and hats and a section marked for lost property. There was nothing of use to her amongst the items.

She took a moment to check her ammo situation. Still very good despite things. Her medical pack needn't have concerned her - it was still full from her earlier scavenging. With a deep breath, she clanked across the metallic grid floor, ignoring the twitter of what sounded like a rat scurrying somewhere below her feet, and approached a set of double doors ahead. Dried blood tried but failed to mimic the rust already eating away at its surface. Ignoring the ominous stains, she stood on her tiptoes to peer through one of the portholes, trying to make out through the grimy glass what was beyond. The glass lens fish-eyed and distorted the image of the room. All she could make out were dingy, wet walls through the gloom.

Afraid she might have been, but Chris had most certainly travelled this way and she had no intention of hesitating any longer. The minute she saw him again, she was going to glue herself to his hip.

With a forceful shove from her shoulder, she opened the left-hand door. Directly left, was a dead end. A waft of kerosene drew her eyes to the uncapped bottle sat against the wall. Some of the fuel had been tipped on the floor, mingling together with a small puddle of blood. No scent in the world could mask the pungent smell of death, clear and sharp to her nose in the confined space of the corridor. Turning right at the sound of a mournful groan, her eyes settled on the piteous man dragging himself slowly across the concrete floor. His once white lab coat was stained with a concoction of blood, mucus and dirt ground into the shabby material that clung to its skeletal body like a second skin. The filmed white eyes gazing up at her from its sunken face were filled with longing. His expression was something close to delight to be faced with another piece of fresh meat, not in the least phased by his current condition.

Rebecca couldn't count the holes riddling the zombie's body, but there was enough of them to have torn thick chunks of flesh and bone away at the base of the spine, crippling it. She stared at it, poised calmly as it tried to reach up for her, jaws opening up as if waiting for her to just stand around and have her leg chewed off. She turned away with disgust as a flap of skin from its cheek fell off its face, followed by a cluster of maggots that had been chewing away at the withered muscle beneath. It seemed a waste of a bullet to shoot it. She could simply hop over it without fear. But something inside her was quaking with anger. She couldn't summon and ounce of pity for the man now zombie decaying at her feet, his broken fingers inches from her boots.

He'd been a scientist, a contributor to the T-Virus. A creator of this nightmare. It was because of him, and all the others who'd worked there, that all this had happened. They'd created such a terrible weapon that could destroy life as they knew it in an instant. It was a horrible feeling to want someone to die, but in that moment, she couldn't help think that he, and all those others like him, had deserved what they got.

_Play with life, pay the price._

Just as it managed to clasp her foot, she aimed her gun directly over the top of its head and pulled the trigger. A bubbly spray of jellifying blood and brain matter sprayed out like a volcano. Its moan was croaked as its face buried into the concrete, finally meeting its true end.

She pulled her foot easily from its grip and stepped over its repulsive corpse without a second thought and walked onwards, turning at the corner going right.

The split railings, cobwebbed and rusting, edged around the 'L' shaped walkway. Towards the far side was a turn off to the left and on the right-hand side was a set of concrete steps leading down below her. Littering her path were more bodies, though these did not rise to greet her like the first had tried to do. Their rotting heads had caved in from heavy fire power. Still, she tip-toed around them, careful not to slip on their congealing blood.

She came to stand at the partition of the dreary corridor, trying to decide whether to go down the stairs or go left and check out the double doors in the middle of the dead end corridor. It seemed a better idea to completely check out the level before proceeding further. For now, she turned her back on the stairs and walked into the left-hand corridor.

At the far end, under an archway that led the corridor to an abrupt end, was a metallic desk. The lamp above illuminated the dusty surface and showed clearly the long lines of blood smearing atop the bare surface. Desperate fingers had reached for something, maybe anything, to escape the pitiful death that awaited them.

Shaking off the thoughts of those who had perished there, she turned to the double doors. A blue hue illuminated through the square port holes. Glancing through inquisitively, she could see that the light source was reflecting off a big white screen at the back of the room. She opened one of the doors and slipped inside.

A meeting room. A very industrial one at that with its stony grey walls and flooring. The grime that had permeated the outer halls had managed to creep inside, spreading from corner to corner and giving the space an even graver feel to it. Shelves were stacked full of boxes, unorganised, though each were stamped with an older version of the Umbrella logo with the slogan, 'For a brighter future for all mankind.'.

_No wonder they haven't been using that motto in recent years, with all this waiting in the wings…_

A line of steel cabinets to her right were locked up, but she could see through the thick glass in the doors that they contained record files and tapes, all labelled with intricate detail to their contents. Financial reports, minutes from past meetings and an array of other insignificant things they felt they needed to report about. Nothing that would serve of any real use to her.

On the long central table was the disarray of a final meeting. A few odd papers, a minutes machine, a couple of plastic cups, and even a coffee stained copy of the Raccoon Times, dated back to the beginning of May. The S.T.A.R.S had made the paper on that day, as indicated on the bottom corner. She couldn't help but take a look, holding her breath as she turned to the page where the article lay. To see a picture of the happy smiling faces of her team mates was heart-wrenching. Little had they known then what would become of them merely months down the line. She turned her teary eyes to the article, which praised both the Alpha and Bravo teams for bringing down a notorious drug ring. True heroes, the journalist had said of them, and Raccoon's bright future. Rebecca glanced up at those boxes and their false slogan of their own 'bright future' and shook her head.

Casting out the bed sentiments, she folded the newspaper closed, noticing on the corner of the table was a phone blinking away. She pressed the button below the flickering red light on the dirty handset and waited as the machine whirred into rewind. After a moment of foot-tapping impatience, the phone beeped and began to playback its message.

"Please be aware," said a smooth, authoritarian male voice, "that the laboratory area level B3 will not be accessible for the forty-eight hours until the decontamination process is complete. Access is only available to gold pass level employees. Biohazard suits can be located in the entranceway and will be issued after a full sanitization process."

The message ended abruptly, the last echo of his voice leaving her feeling chilled. Such a emotionless voiced message made the situation even more raw. How long ago was that message recorded? The first signs were documented back in May. Just how quickly had things descended into chaos?

She glanced up towards the projector screen illuminated by the slide projector sat on the very end of the table. It was already loaded and ready to use, and from her hand touching its case, she could tell someone had used it recently. Curious, she switched it on.

With a loud click in the silent room, the first slide slid into place.

'The Umbrella Bio Organic Weapon Official Report.'

Rebecca swallowed a thick lump in her throat. _As ominous a title as any. _

Without taking her eyes from the screen, she tugged one of the leather chairs around to sit in. It seemed like she was going to be in for quite a ride. She clicked the control for the next slide.

A photo profile rolled onto the screen. The picture unveiled twisted her gut with fright and disgust. The 'MA-39', or Cerberus. The zombie dog. The photo showed a caged specimen roaming its dirty cell. Its once sleek fur was torn apart, revealing the glistening bones of its rib cage beneath. Its bloodied jaw dripped with a strings of saliva, fangs bared in a furious snarl. The hunger in its dead eyes was such a pitiful thing to see. She turned from the image to the data recorded next to it, written in a text so small she had to squint to see the stats listed. She was scared to go to the next slide, yet she could help but see what else the slides had to show.

Next came the shark; the 'FI-03 Neptune', viral killer of the deep. It was the same lay out as the previous. A diagram, photo and description of their pet project. Rebecca shook her head with repulsion. What other poor animals had undergone this 'special' treatment? Then she thought of the monkeys and frogs.

She scoffed. _Their touch was far reaching and thoughtless. _

She really had entered the heart of hell, just as her instincts had told her.

Begrudgingly, she clicked for the next slide. 'MA-121 Hunter'. Those frog-like gorilla monsters that had been hanging around the underground factory and had broken into the mansion. She tried to block out her earlier encounter in the study as she stared at the photograph of two of the beasts on the prowl. A shiver danced up and down her spine as she stared long and hard at the screen.

What had they hoped to gain with the virus? Military power? World domination?

"Nothing I'd understand for sure…" She mumbled to herself, switching slides.

The next slide made her breath pause in her throat. 'T-002 Tyrant'.

_What on Earth? _She leaned forward, narrowing her gaze on the picture-less profile before her. The diagram picture depicted a towering humanoid creature, its structure altered so that the left arm bulged Titanic-like with muscle running all the way down to a humongous claw. There was definitely something familiar about the creature, like she'd faced one before. She prayed to high heaven that she didn't meet the creature profiled before her. She clicked quickly onto the next slide.

As it appeared on screen, she froze stiff in her seat. It was as if she could feel the colour actually draining from her face.

The photo taking up the slide screen was of five scientists somewhat casually taken in their lab. Four men, one woman. Three of the men were typical looking scientific types, nothing special beyond the beards and spectacles, though their sharp eyes showed an eerie amount of intelligence. The woman, though not of interest, was quite a beauty, her short hair combed neatly away from a smiling peachy face. Next to her, the man furthest on the right, was the one under the young medic's scrutiny.

Her lips trembled. "I don't believe it… How can it be… ?!"

Blonde hair, sunglasses, stoic expression. It was none other then S.T.A.R.S. team Captain Albert Wesker.

She choked out a whimper of astonishment, clamping a hand to her mouth as she tried to take in what she was seeing. He was suppose to be their leader, someone they could trust. But it had all been a lie.

He was in fact, a traitor. An Umbrella operative.

Though, it all suddenly began to make sense to her. In the training facility the prior night, she'd found documents and diary entries that talked of a student named Albert. She figured now they were one and the same.

How could she be so clueless to the sickening truth? But he'd played such a convincing role as he prepared to lead them to their deaths. Umbrella had not so idly sat by after all, recruiting their little operative to clear up the mess for them, and at the same time, take out the greatest threat.

S.T.A.R.S.

So, there he was, acting the role of the diligent leader, only to have set them up. The helicopter crash, the radios… They were led into a very deadly game indeed. Forest had voiced earlier that he'd felt the whole situation was a set up. Oh how right he'd been, and he never lived to find out that he and his fellow S.T.A.R.S. had been screwed over.

But she was still here to do something about it, and she damned well wasn't going to stand by and let him get away with it.

The slide projector produced nothing more of interest and she quickly clicked it off. She was buzzing with hatred, wishing she knew before what she knew now.

In that pit, right down in the bowels of the mansion, she'd have shot the Captain. Right through his evil heart.

She wiped the silent tears from her eyes, wondering if those thoughts made her just as bad as him. He deserved to pay for what he'd done, though death seemed too easy an escape route. He needed to punished the proper way.

In the top left of the room, there was an alcove housing an AV suite. The systems were set on standby, just recently used. She could tell so by the heat given off by the machines.

Her boot crunched on something under foot. As she lifted her boot heel, she found it was a piece of tape from inside an old VHS cassette stuck to the rubber sole. It was a clipping amidst a floor caked in tiny fragments of the same. Had someone been in here recently cutting up tapes? Potential evidence?

She sighed. There was not much she could do on that front. Rather now, her attention focused on a screen alive with white and black static fuzz. She checked the video player slot just beneath, merely out of curiosity, and to her surprise, found a video still inside. Pressing the eject, she checked the tape over. No labels whatsoever.

She pulled up a chair and reinserted the tape. She pressed the rewind, though stopped the tape before it reached the beginning. She sat back and pressed the play button.

It was a security tape of the mansion area. Her eyes widened to see the date was listed for that day.

The screen was split into four smaller ones, covering certain areas at given intervals. First she was viewing the mansion's main hall, the bar room with the piano, the dining room and the open tea room. She swallowed hard as she glanced at Kenneth's dead body on show in the left bottom corner of the screen. What made her shudder more was the zombie hanging around close by, looking as if it were staring out the window with interest. She highly doubted it though.

The screens changed to more areas of the mansion - empty rooms, some with zombies in, some without. Then the screen changed again, and she was surprised to see Jill and Barry in the top right hand corner standing in the eastern corridor, simply talking. She couldn't hear what they were saying though.

The tape was recorded, so this had to have happened earlier, though at what time she couldn't tell because the numbers were half cut off at the bottom of the screen below the date. She leaned forward, watching the exchange, trying to make out their expressions. Jill looked relieved, and Barry, calm and collected, unlike earlier. Though there was still something odd about him, something that she couldn't quite put her finger on. The twitchiness perhaps, or the way he looked at her. But it was just her speculation.

The tape went on and on, going over different areas in the mansion, and then out into the courtyard. For a moment, she thought she saw Chris in the lower yard where the waterfall was, but the figure passed out of the shot very quickly. Moments later, she was surprised to find she was looking at herself. Though, she wasn't alone. She was with Richard.

Rebecca shook, sadness welling up through the anger of betrayal. The imaged of them were in the room after she's been knocked out by the vine tentacle. He was sitting there on the bed with her head resting in his lap, gently stroking her hair. His expression was placid, despite the horrible things he'd seen. The affection he seemed to dote on her in her time of need made her turn away, stopping the tape. Now of all times she didn't need to break down into a sobbing wreak.

No, she had to focus on being angry, so she could avenge her team mates. The quivering hand on her lap quickly curled into a fist, the knuckles turning white with her new found focus.

She left the video in the machine, turning off the video screen as she left the room.

She was going to escape this hell on Earth and tell the world what she knew, and expose Umbrella for what it was.

And Captain Wesker - He was going to pay most of all.


	20. Chapter 20: Foes in Friends

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is __ to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**A/N: Its taken some time and heavy editing to complete this chapter, and as you can see by the length, you're in for quite a ride. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 20: Foes In Friends**

Ten years ago, Umbrella had unwittingly sealed its own fate.

From the inside out the threads that held the corporation neatly together were slowly coming undone, and from beneath the countless folds, a black tainted heart was slowly beginning to reveal itself. It was a festering disease created by selfishness and greed, too far gone to even think of healing. Corruption had rooted itself deep down to the core, malevolently cursing its very existence.

James Marcus, one the founding father's of the Umbrella legacy, had died face down in his own lab, betrayed by the company he'd help to build. But his assassination had been the first hole dug in the grave marked Umbrella. Their hunger for money and power would be their ultimate downfall. Their Godly desires would soon come at a high price.

Marcus's resurrection had brought an inconceivable nightmare upon the Arklay region. His revenge a true example of the insanity caused by the ominous virus. But their creation was so fragile that it rode a tentative line between life and death - one slip and those tangled in its web were destined for a grisly fate. Even Marcus himself had not been safe from the virus that had brought him back to life.

It was too dangerous to be contained, or even controlled by human hands. If it could have, then the terrible events of present would have been an impossibility. But the impossible had become the reality that Rebecca was now trapped in, though the fear that had burrowed deep inside her chest had begun to wane. Her understanding of the demented world around her and its occupants had lifted the shadows inside her head. They had reason for being now, a rational albeit sordid one. But it was the anger she felt - the hurt brought on by betrayal - that made her stand there at the bottom of those laboratory stairs, facing a gate that potentially entered into a living hell, without any sort of concern.

Her gloved hands wrapped around the bars as she leaned to peer into the confines beyond, as if waiting for some horrible monster to appear. But for once, nothing was waiting for her. Not at the moment anyway.

Tiny moths fluttered with a faint buzz above a vivid light fixture, calling her attention for a few mere seconds as she tried to decipher the room before she stepped into it. A faint hiss of steam was drifting out from a round vent just to the left of the gate, and in the distance was the thrum of stale air being moved around the room by a large fan. It all seemed void and contained, but she wouldn't know until she actually stepped inside.

She let go of the bars, sliding her hand down to grasp hold of the handle and pushed her way inside.

This, as a part of her had decided undoubtedly, was the heart of Umbrella's hell. Yet, with everything she'd seen and experienced thus far, it wasn't by far the worst she'd come to face. Not that it didn't stop her feeling tense, though the determination in her heart pushed it back deep down.

She was not the same woman who'd started this deadly mission.

Myth had become solid truth, science an unbearable evil and life an even more brittle stage before inevitable death. Trouble was, she couldn't predict when that would happen. These tormented dwellings were a battlefield born from a scientific catastrophe, and the S.T.A.R.S had been forced to pay because of Umbrella, who'd had their very own leader escort them to their deaths.

Her blood boiled when _his_ image flickered inside her head.

She'd see to it that Umbrella were finished. _They might not go down quietly, but they'll go down _- though, would it be in time to stop them contaminating the world?

Or maybe this was just the beginning of the end for humanity.

_No more. I won't let anyone else die because of them._

Not even the stench of death could deter her, or even the hollow clank of the gate closing heavily behind, locking back into place. Her expression simply remained grim.

To the front of her, the hackneyed corridor moved up towards a chain-link fence before turning off sharply to the west. To her left, another short length of corridor, shadowed under a low arch and dripping wet from an undetectable leak. And to her right, discoloured steel double doors. She hadn't noticed at first until she sloshed a step forward that she'd been standing in a muddy puddle of dirty water and blood. In fact, she hadn't really taken into account all the charred chunks of body parts scattered across the front path. It was only when she did take notice that she acknowledged the pungent smell of scorched meat, sour by the fact the human remains had been decaying for quite some time. Though she was surprised that she had very little reaction to the smell. She was starting to get used to it, and it scared her.

Shaking off the thoughts, she looked back and forth between the three possible paths. Which way to go, she couldn't decide. She wished she'd found a map.

While in mid-turn, considering to take the left-hand corridor, the doors to the right opened.

Gun up in a flash, she snapped around to face the newcomer, ready to pull the trigger if they even flinched at her in the wrong way.

But all the built up fortitude was gone in a split second as she found herself staring down the barrel at Jill.

"Whoa! Easy, Rebecca! It's just me!"

The Alpha team member was armed, but certainly in no position to pose a threat if she were one. Both shoulders were occupied, one by a shotgun and the other by Forest's grenade launcher while her standard issue Beretta was tucked away inside her thigh holster. Her hands however held something else.

A capsule - with all the warning signs of being dangerous if not handled carefully.

Rebecca hesitated before lowering the weapon, but only slightly, an edge of apprehension inside her. With Wesker turning out to be a traitor, and Barry having acted so suspiciously, she couldn't help but feel uneasy about Jill, whom had disappeared on her in the mansion.

"You'd better keep that weapon down," the older woman advised. "One spark and we both go up."

"Huh?" She scowled briefly before nodding calmly towards the mysterious container. "What is it?"

"Fuel for the main generator. Most of the power to key parts of the lab are down." Jill seemed to take in the fact that Rebecca was still semi-pointing the weapon at her, though said nothing, however the apprehensive look made the younger woman point it in another direction. "It's a nitro-based compound," she continued, aside, "shaking it and firing weapons near it are a bad idea." She gently rested the canister to the ground so it leaned against her legs. "Once I restore power to the systems I can use the elevator. Then I can access the main lab below - see what they've got cooking down there."

Rebecca pushed aside all her mistrusting thoughts. This was Jill after all, the woman who'd personally looked out for her since her first day in S.T.A.R.S. "I'll come with you. The more evidence we get from this disaster, the better." She rubbed the aching wrist of her gun hand. "Have you seen the others?"

"I thought I saw Wesker earlier down by the underground entrance, but I haven't seen him since. And Barry…" She scowled. "… He abandoned me in the mining area in the caves. Took the elevator up and stranded me there for no reason at all. Its strange, but he's been acting weird ever since we got to the mansion. Turning up in strange places, talking to himself… apparently…"

"I saw him. I wasn't too keen on trusting him. There was just something not quite right about his behaviour."

Jill sighed. "Its so unlike him. Something must be up."

Rebecca decided to turn her attentions to another member of the Alpha team. "And you haven't come across Chris down here?"

Jill looked surprised. "He's down here?! I really haven't seen him since we ran for the mansion." She couldn't help but smile. "Just my luck I keep missing him."

Rebecca's face stiffened as she changed to a more important issue. "If there is anyone you shouldn't trust, its Captain Wesker." Jill didn't seem to know what she was talking about by her perplexed expression. It appeared she'd not come across the interesting slideshow upstairs. Sighing, Rebecca relayed her troubling findings to Jill, even mentioning the probable connection between him and a man mentioned at the training facility. Her superior stood there, mouth agape as a dark picture unravelled before her. "I don't believe it… Captain Wesker… A traitor?" She rested her chin into her hand thoughtfully, blowing out an agitated sigh. "What Enrico said…"

"Enrico?"

Jill's eyes filled with sorrow. "I found him in the caves, injured. He was trying to tell me about a traitor in S.T.A.R.S and then someone shot him. He died before he could say who."

Rebecca swallowed hard, clutching a hand to her mouth as a sudden wave of nausea washed over her. "Oh God… How could…" She bit back the tears, allowing the sickly feeling to slowly settle itself to a dull ache. She hadn't want to draw her thoughts back onto her fallen comrades. With the emotions raw to poke at, she just wanted to keep them buried deep down for now. "And Barry hadn't let me see him…" She whispered in remembrance, more suspicious of him now then before.

"Barry couldn't have done it. Enrico was a close family friend. Their kids played together every weekend." Jill shook her head. "He may have been acting strange, but that doesn't make him a murderer. He's been putting himself on the line to help me. Not what a traitor would do… But Wesker… I thought he was straight. A little stiff, but no backstabber. Man was I wrong." She growled, inwardly kicking herself for being so blind. "He's been playing us all for fools. What a fucking prick! I has to be him who pulled the trigger on Enrico." She pushed back the anger trying to seep out and confidently nodded to the young Bravo. "Looks like we're going to have to be careful, you and me. Us girls should stick together."

"Yes, M'am." She saluted respectfully, drawing a grin from her superior. "So, which way to the generator?"

"If you'll follow me," she said as she picked up the canister again with care, "and watch my back in the process. Oh, and if you're going to shoot at anything, warn me beforehand. I would offer you one of my big guns, but that's would make things a little more risky."

"Alright." She was ready, her gun pointed to the ground, hoping to God that nothing big decided to jump out and attack them.

Jill guided Rebecca slowly down the rutted left-hand corridor, not in the least phased by the fact she was walking through puddles of thick, congealed blood. Her eyes were sharp and eager even while acknowledging the thick shadows, barely pierced by the light just behind them. Rebecca ignored the drips of water falling onto her shoulders and followed just behind at a matched pace. She didn't think they had much to fear from, not from the earlier signs of trounced enemies. Who knew what they'd face when they headed deeper in, but for now, an ambush seemed unlikely.

To the left of the sharp right corner at the end of their first path, there was a set of porthole-clad double doors, too dirtied up to see into without pressing ones face right up against it. Jill ignored them and took the right turn, so Rebecca did the same without a backwards glance.

At the top end of the next thin stretch of chilly corridor they came to a single door within the top wall. Jill paused mid-step. "You mind getting the door?"

Immediately shifting their positions, Rebecca obliged, pulling the door open and keeping it propped wide with her back to allow her comrade to slip by. Jill's arms were rigid, shaking only so slightly from the effort to keep it as still as humanly possible. She seemed to be in discomfort by the tightening of her lips, but not once complained about her circumstances.

Rebecca looked back out, momentarily drawn to the stretched shadows turning against the wall of the next corridor that completed the square of the outer lab area. There was a giant fan behind the chain-link fence, the one she'd heard earlier upon her entrance. It hummed to itself, circulating dry, fusty air for no good reason. It brought out all the different acrid smells that had been left to choke the life out of the place. And by the looks of things, it had done so with success.

Opposite it, along the wall was a large shelf with a broken trolley sat at the side of it, both containing line after line of beakers and glass containers, clouded by dust and grime. Though they all still proudly depicting their little Umbrella logos, as if to make up for their insignificance. Other then two stools, one upturned on top of the other, the articles were in a state of abandonment in this destitute place. Maybe once somebody had stood there and had been proud, happy and interested in its state of being. But not now, nor ever again.

"Rebecca…" Jill's voice was drawn out lowly, alert to something just ahead of them. The young medic brought her focus back to the immediate situation and moved forward, though kept a foot in the doorway in case they both needed to make a quick (or not so quick in Jill's case) exit. She forced herself to block out every other sound around her, squinting past Jill where she'd abruptly stopped, awaiting what lurked in the shadows. For a moment, there was stillness, then was the muffled sound of some type of movement, but it was only certified when a sharp shuffle echoed around the intersection up ahead.

_Damn… _Rebecca met Jill's gaze as she glanced back at her. The former motioned for superior to step back and swap places with her, so carefully, trying to make as little noise as possible, Jill turned on her heel and took one nearly hushed step after another back to the door. She shifted around Rebecca in small steps and pressed her back to the door to keep it open as Rebecca went to investigate the threat.

The only light in the corridor came from just above the entering door into the area. The two way intersection at the end was compromised by the thick gloom. Rebecca did not rush as she approached the head of the path, rather allowing for the enemy to come to her. She would keep her distance from Jill if she had to open fire, though if she got backed up, at least they had the chance to put the door between them and the approaching creature.

She was a few paces away from the intersection as the zombie came shambling slowly but surely out of the shadows from the left. The corpse was alabaster white, its movements stiff on limbs that were burdened by the wasted body above it. It startled her for a split second when she realised that the zombie was completely naked, though luckily for Rebecca's innocent eyes, its genitalia had since fallen off.

Its body was a hideous patchwork of crusty muscle that had pushed its way up through the surface layers of skin. This one had been dead longer then some of the ones she'd encountered back in the mansion. Its features were close to that of a skeleton.

Its blank eyes focused wholly, determined to fulfil its endless hunger that was the only drive left in its existence. Though just as it lifted its arms towards her, a bullet popped like a cork into its brain, spraying blood across the wall behind it. True death was finally granted to the former man.

Rebecca watched down the barrel of her gun as it crumpled to the ground at her feet and let out a heavy sigh of relief - only to shriek as a cold hand brushed her elbow. Before fingers could lock on her, she jumped backwards, faced in close proximity with another pasty, naked zombie. It was too close for her to pull off a shot, and she was forced to back-peddle as it groaned hungrily a few paces away. It was either run or become fast food.

"Rebecca, quick!"

Without hesitation, the medic ducked into a turn, just avoiding the lurching arms above and rushed for the door, passing through just as Jill stepped back out into the corridor and allowed the door to slam closed behind them.

"Shit," the older woman muttered bluntly, looking over at Rebecca, who'd leaned back against the corner, staring at the door as the zombie on the other side began to bang against it, jolting the it in its frame.

"Here, look, you take this," Jill said, holding out the capsule for her companion to take, which she did after holstering her gun. "Go stand around the end of the corridor, just so I don't accidentally blow you up."

Rebecca nodded and moved with care down to the other end as instructed, past the shelf and trolley, and put herself around the edge, glancing around and waiting to see what her companion was going to do.

Jill smiled and took the shotgun from her shoulder, turning it around so that she was holding it with the butt pointed to the ceiling. To the side of her, the banging was becoming more violent as the zombie behind found more determination to fight for its meal. She stepped back into the small area just behind the door and grabbed hold of the handle.

With a firm yank, she pulled it open and the desperate zombie stumbled through. Even before it realised it was free to roam, Jill cracked it in the side of the head with the butt of her powerful weapon, sending the pathetic creature crashing against the corner of closest wall. She pumped the shotgun and quickly covered the distance between herself and her opponent, jamming the shotgun right under its chin. It started to move forward, leaning into her weapon just as she pulled the trigger, blowing its head off its body in a messy firework display of blood and bone.

She sidestepped and allowed the body to crumple under its own weight.

Jill took a moment to reopen the door and look back down between the intersection. She investigated the shadows thoroughly, shotgun sweeping with every careful movement, though she encountered no more enemies. Satisfied they were safe, she went back to the door and called out into the main corridor, "All clear!"

Rebecca rejoined her comrade. "Might be better if you fight the enemies and I hold the tank."

Jill nodded. "Agreed." And she continued to lead the front, keeping her gun pointed low as she put a good distance between herself and Rebecca in case she needed to shoot again.

Rebecca hugged the capsule to her chest, walking steadily a few metres behind. They took the right turn at the intersection, leading the corridor down towards a set of dirty double doors. There was a small set of steps down midway, and just as Rebecca stepped onto the first one, an exposed cable sparked wildly above her head. She jolted, losing her footing somewhat, though caught herself quickly before causing a very nasty accident.

She froze on the spot, gritting her teeth as she waited for her heartbeat to slow down, staring at the deadly capsule in her arms which slept on like a silent killer. She glanced at Jill who was staring at her, braced on the spot, face completely white.

Rebecca cringed, offering an apologetic smile. "Uh… sorry."

"Not much further," Jill said, making it no big deal and opened one of the rust-coated doors into what revealed itself as the power room.

Rebecca slipped in after Jill, though the door didn't full shut behind her. The hinges awkwardly stuck leaving the door on a jar. It didn't bother her too much. If they had to make a quick exit, better the door be slightly open then fully closed. Those few extra seconds could mean life or death.

The room was fairly well lit and a lot warmer then the rest of the lab - the cause of which pointed at the air escaping from an entanglement of pipes going up and around the room. The notched walls were cracked and scratched, almost as if something had scrabbled against them, though both paid the markings very little attention. All the tanks and instruments in operation had the air of frequented use and at this point, did not look too well maintained, obviously for the fact the residents had since died months ago. Rebecca couldn't even guess what some of the equipment did. Heaters, electrical parts… Not that it mattered all that much. As long as nothing blew up in her face then she was happy to be ignorant.

Jill had walked around to the far right of the room, motioning for her to keep up. Rebecca followed the white arrows painted on the floor and took a turn into a narrow walkway between two lines of tall, thrumming machines. An open furnace burned on the corner, spitting out embers and filling the room with a light cloud of smoke drifting upward with the warm air towards the ceiling. She pulled the capsule tighter to her chest, turning herself away from it as she followed Jill down towards the very bottom. There was a unit jammed into the corner - what was the main fuel supply to the generator.

It didn't look too hard to operate on closer inspection. The panel itself consisted of six buttons, all opaque, next to a blue screen reader. Above them were two lights, a green one, inactive, and a red one, currently lit to indicate the machine was not operating.

Rebecca noted the sign next to the machine. 'WARNING: EXTREMELY SENSITIVE TO SHOCK.'

_Lovely… _Any bullets going off in close proximity to this baby meant bad news all around.

"Load her in," Jill directed, thumbing towards the waiting hole for the capsule.

Rebecca with the greatest of care put it into its designated resting place, turning it until it clicked into position with a computerised beep. The console activated itself, a light on the base panel coming to life as the red light on the main controls swiftly switched to green.

"Excellent," Jill beamed with approval. "We have power."

Rebecca was about to respond when her eyes quickly caught movement above them. Something dark, wiry…

Inhuman.

Rebecca swallowed, her expression enough to draw Jill back into battle mode, turning slowly to follow her subordinate's eyes towards the ceiling.

"What did you see?" She asked in a hushed tone.

"I don't know." Rebecca retrieved her gun from its holster. "Not a zombie for sure."

"Keep your eyes peeled." Jill made the effort to keep as quiet as possible, trying not to alert anything to their presence as she moved back down the way they'd come. She switched between her weapons, shouldering the lesser shotgun for the more devastating grenade launcher. She checked her ammo. It was loaded with five flame rounds.

Rebecca kept her Beretta pointed high, trying to listen out for any foreign movements. Besides the hiss of steam from the pipes and the drone of the heavy machinery, she couldn't make out any other sounds.

They passed the furnace, Jill being the first to head back towards the entrance where multiple lanes proceeded further into the room. Rebecca was just turning the corner when - _THUNK! _- something landed on the stack of machines to her right, forcing her to snap around to intercept when _WHACK!_, a skeletal body as black as night struck her shoulder, sending her back, though she managed to fire off a shot, hitting her attacker in the arm, but to no effect.

_BANG! _She missed with her next bullet, which recoiled off the far wall, and her opponent leapt in front of her, slamming each of its multiple appendages into the wall behind her, blocking her in.

What she was facing was one of the most hideous creations imaginable.

What could have been man or insect was malformed into a sinewy being with six wiry arms. Its gaping mouth was filled with scraggily teeth, face forever captured in a soulless scream as its red fly eyes bore into her. Its battle cry was shrill and vicious as it quickly latched onto her, lifting her clean off her feet with its hooked arms.

"JILL!"

It didn't take long for her companion to race to her aid, slamming a high kick into its muscled back. It cried out, shaking Rebecca around like a rag doll in response. The poor woman struggled, trying to ignore the thick, rough bristly whiskers on its body rubbing roughly against her skin. When Jill used her weapon to club out its legs, it finally released her.

Rebecca fell onto her side, quickly rolling out of the way from attack, allowing Jill to retaliate for her. As it went to leap at the Alpha team member, it was met with an exploding fireball to the chest, blasting it back into the far wall. Its scream died quickly as it cooked under the flames consuming its body.

When Rebecca finally found her voice again, she spoke more shakily then she'd wanted to.

"What on Earth was that?!"

Jill brushed strands of hair from her face, staring with morbid curiosity at the still burning creature. "You're asking me?" She turned her bemused gaze from the corpse and helped an already rising Rebecca back to her feet, making her stand in place when it seemed she might fall over again. "You okay?"

"A little winded, maybe, but not badly hurt. The worst I'll have is a headache."

"Welcome to hell's playground. Please wipe your feet on the way in." Jill took the lane just to the left of the entrance and proceeded further into the room. Rebecca smiled and followed after her, all the while staying alert in case another one of those horror movie rejects decided to rear its ugly head.

The next door to the back led further into the depths of the power room. The subsequent section was lit in an eerie orange glow, and was almost like walking into a furnace. The vents seemed not to have been functioning properly, and both women could feel the sweat starting to bud the minute they stepped onto the first grated walkway.

Above their heads, the vent was punched out in one swift, violent action, almost landing on Jill if she'd been a few paces slower. Rebecca's head shot up, watching with horror as another of those fly creatures began to pull itself through.

"Get behind me!" Jill literally pulled Rebecca out of the way, taking a step back to get out of grabbing range of their adversary who leapt down slashing, but fortunately struck nothing but air.

Jill unloaded a flame round at the thing, which just managed to catch the dodging creature on its back, setting skin and hair on fire. It squealed like a pig, thrashing about wildly in agony, managing to catch Jill behind the ear with a flailing limb, knocking her aside.

Rebecca wasted no time in unloading her weapon into the things head as it focused on trying to put itself out, dodging out of the way each time its arms flapped her way. It eventually fell at her feet just as she clicked empty.

Blowing out a sigh of relief, she ran to her comrade's side.

Jill touched her head as she rose back up and brought her hand back to look at the palm. She smiled - no blood had come from the wound. "Gonna be a nice bruise there tomorrow."

The way directly forward led to a dead end, though to the left, passing around an area of machinery blocked off by a floor to ceiling fence, was the way to another set of doors. They quickly navigated around the walkway and entered the room.

The space was dark besides a couple of halogen light strips built into the metal walls. The room was set on a square pathway that bordered a hulking tower of machinery hooked up in the centre.

The main generator itself.

Jill circumnavigated to the right around to the back left-hand side of the machine where a computer console was inset. The green screen showed the power levels, which were currently reading out normal. With the push of a button, the machine was alive and rumbling as a motor kicked into full swing. The power routed itself to elevator, making it good to go.

As Rebecca joined Jill's side, a third insect creature attacked, landing right on the former's back. She cried out, the weight of it almost pulling her to the ground, though with split second thinking, she quickly propelled herself backwards allowing the weight to slam them both heavily against the wall, her body punching into the thing's chest. With a crunch, it shrieked and let go, allowing Rebecca to leap aside as Jill unloaded a flame grenade into its crippled body, putting it out of its misery.

Rebecca picked herself up, grabbing the rail around the generator for support. "How many more of those things are there?!"

"That's a million dollar question right there." Jill went back to the main entrance. "Lets go. Our ride downstairs awaits." Not that Rebecca was thrilled with the idea anymore, in case they met anymore of those weird things.

The young medic loaded a fresh clip of ammo into the chamber of her gun, readying herself in case of another confrontation. Though, she didn't want too many more of those, or she'd be out of ammo in no time.

It was just in that instance of looking down that her eyes quickly caught sight of a piece of paper crumpled into one of the large floor vents. She plucked up the tatty, yellowed paper and unfolded the crumpled creases. It was less then half a piece of A4 paper.

"Rebecca?"

"Just a second…" There were more bits of paper, maybe four or five she caught sight of along the floor. One caught between the railing, another next to a pipe skimming along the bottom edge of the wall and the rest simply resting crumpled on the walkway.

Her attention was taken with these seemingly insignificant pieces of paper by the fact that the first piece read 'emergency codes' in a fading print across the top. It was something that had to be of some real importance.

"What you found?" Jill called out, looking around the giant generator.

"Paper… Might have some useful information on it. Just want to check."

"I'll meet you by the elevator. Its just down the other end of the corridor out of the power room. I'll make sure the area stays clear."

"Alright, I won't be too long." She gave her companion a small wave as she left the room and turned to pick up the last bit of paper. With a quick glance, it was clear to see they were from different pages from a file or book. A bit hard to decipher in parts due to the aging of the pieces.

At this point, she'd walked all the way around to the other side of the room, and found herself opposite a small console, that appeared to be active. Out of curiosity to its function, she turned and pressed the enter key. A screen popped up on the small panel. Three options featured. Power level test, override main console, and self destruct system (ES1).

"Self destruct system?!" She voiced with surprise. Was this place wired up to explode?

She glanced down at one of the pieces of paper and found with surprise that the ES1 from the self destruct option was printed there, and below it, a list of names and codes still just about readable.

_Could these set this thing off?! _She certainly wasn't going to throw this bit of useful info away and tucked it into her pack. Whoever had left these around would have certainly been punished for such a stupid mistake. Though it made her think that someone might have tried to blow the place up at sometime or other and had been killed in the process. If they'd have succeeded, she wouldn't be stuck in this nightmare.

But it was no use thinking of what could have been. Jill was waiting for her.

No more extended separation. She'd spent enough time alone already. Keeping alert, she backtracked from the central room, back through the burning hot second section and out into the power room entrance area.

Just as she came up to the door, now on a larger jar then before, she heard voices. Jill's, and another's.

"Jill, you made it." It sounded an awful lot like Barry. Rebecca scowled to herself. The way he spoke, though sounded somewhat relieved, seemed a bit off somehow. Almost robotic.

"Barry! Where did you run off-" There was a pause as a set of footsteps slowly approached. Rebecca held her breath as she carefully knelt down at the side of the slightly open door and cautiously peaked out.

She could see Barry and Jill just beyond the intersection, and just stepping out of the middle corridor was none other then Wesker. His expression was cold.

"Wesker…" Jill hissed stiffly, taking a step forward, but came face to face with the barrel of Barry's gun. She scoffed, sneering darkly at him with resentment. "Well, what d'ya know!"

A flicker of a condescending smile pricked up Wesker's lips as he circled around Jill. "Oh, don't blame Barry for everything. I've heard his wife and two lovely daughter's would be in danger if he didn't do exactly what I told him to."

Rebecca quietly gasped. So, Barry was a tool. No surprise by this little revelation.

Jill clenched her hands into fists at her sides, the knuckles turning stark white. "Wesker, you're pathetic." She glanced back at Barry, wanting to say something, maybe out of anger, but she didn't, instead giving him a look of disappointment. Barry twitched under her gaze but his aim never faltered.

"Come, come, Jill," Wesker goaded smoothly. "I'm sure you can do better then that. I'm sure you have a lot more you want to say to me."

She clenched her lips together and looked away, not giving him the satisfaction.

He chuckled. "I'm disappointed."

"Just answer me this," she demanded. "Why eliminate S.T.A.R.S.?"

"That's Umbrella's intention."

Jill scoffed with disgust. "You're just a pitiful slave of Umbrella."

"You're a smart girl, Jill. But really, you misunderstand me." He pushed his slipping sunglasses back into place. "Though getting rid of S.T.A.R.S was just one piece of a bigger cake, what is in this laboratory, is the real cut. But I'll burn it all. And that'll be my days with Umbrella finished. Though I'll be the only one with the data when all is said and done. And they'll have to pay a high price for it…"

"You greedy… !" The sentence was quickly cut off when Barry thumped her in the back of the head with his gun. He caught her by the midsection so she wouldn't collapse at Wesker's feet. She looked so tiny folded over Barry's huge arm. For a moment, Rebecca thought she saw a look of guilt cross his face, but he remained neutral in front of Wesker.

"A pity…" Wesker said to aloud to himself. "You were quite the soldier, Jill." He walked towards the opposite end of the corridor and turned to Barry as he reached the corner, tossing what appeared to be a key to him. "Take her to the cells. See that she's…" He smirked. "… Comfortable."

Barry shouldered Jill's weapons with ease and carried the unconscious woman in his arms as he exited back out into the squared corridors. Wesker disappeared around the other corner, and soon after, the sound of the elevator descending roared through the passage.

Rebecca stood up, disbelief sending shivers through her entire body. How could two men of such a highly esteemed law enforcement unit be such cold hearted bastards? Barry may have been looking out for his family, but the lack of emotion diminished him in her eyes. Though what shocked her more was Wesker's demure. _How could he be such a callous asshole?_

What an act he'd preformed all this time. He'd had them all fooled. She wondered what her fellow Bravo's would have said if they'd found out the truth. Then again, Enrico had, and she'd wished got to him before Wesker had.

She slipped out the open door and quickly rushed back up the steps and turned right back out into the corridor after Barry. She didn't know what she'd do if she caught up with him, but she felt better doing something rather then nothing. But as soon as she stepped further into the outer corridor, she began to lose her sudden burst of courage. She would be no match against a tough veteran like him. He easily outmatched her in strength, stamina and weaponry skill. It was like stepping inside a cage with a bear wearing a dress made of steaks.

Glancing around the corner, neither Barry nor Jill were anywhere in sight. He'd got a good head start on her. She turned right and strode down the corridor, biting her lip with anger and nervousness. And here was her thinking she'd only be dealing with the monsters rather then facing a human problem.

_Poor Jill…_

When she reached the corner where the port-holed double doors were, she heard steps echoing distantly, getting closer. All her nerve seemed to wash out of her and she grabbed the nearest handle and flung the door open. She had to formulate a better plan if she was going to try and help Jill.

She found herself faced with was a grungy makeshift operating theatre, everything tossed aside from what might have been a scuffle initiated some time ago. There were putrid remains, maybe human, maybe some other creature, but they had no real form anymore and had melted into a thick, brown gunk. Swallowing, she moved further into the room, jumping as she passed an inner window. Beyond was a line of cadavers all bagged up and hanging from a rail in a back alcove. She looked away sharply, having seen enough dead bodies for one day.

At the furthest side of the room, in a well lit corner, was an open office. The computer desk was not in too much of a disarray for the chaos that had attacked the other parts of the room, though there was marks of blood on the once polished wood. Her focus went to the computer displaying a spinning Umbrella screensaver. Upon further inspection, she found the system was actually logged into the mainframe.

"Convenient," she muttered to herself, pulling a lone leather chair from the side and sat down in front of it.

A small box on the bottom of the screen indicated all electronically locked areas were accessible. Rebecca was interested to know how big the laboratory actually was and accessed a menu for the levels. There were maps available when she clicked for a picture view of all the areas. B1 all the way to B4, the latter indicated as one big area.

There was the option to access the cameras, though when she tried to access the one to B4 to check in on Wesker, an error box popped up, informing her that the camera was not connected to the system.

"Damn it…" She focused her attention on B1. Nothing worth looking at. Then to B2. The same. B3...

She leaned forward with surprise. The screen before her showed Chris walking up towards the elevator.

"I found you!" A rush of joy fuelled her as she abandoned the computer and quickly ran from the room. Where the hell had he been all that time? It wasn't as if the place was a bottomless pit.

Now, she just had to catch him before he disappeared again.

She flung open the single door to the sound of the elevator rising back up to their level. Without stopping, she ran around the corner as fast as she could.

"Chris!" She cried out above the noise, panting hard as she came to a stop in front of the huge elevator and the man she'd been chasing for the last few hours.

"Rebecca!" Chris seemed surprised though evidently pleased to see her.

Rebecca bent over, her trembling hands resting on her thighs as she gathered her thoughts and allowed her breathing to slow down from the sudden rush. "I've been trying to catch up to you since I saw you in the inner garden." She blew out a happy sigh, standing up straight. "I've had a real hard time trying to keep up with you, y'know."

Chris smiled. "Well, I'm glad you're okay." He stepped up to her, placing his hands on her shoulders and patting them warmly. "From now on, no more following. Just stick with me, kid."

Rebecca couldn't have been more thankful to hear those words. No more splitting up. "That's my plan, sir," she voiced firmly. He gave her the thumbs up and turned towards the elevator as the large lattice-grid doors slid open. As he took a step forward, she grabbed his arm. The shock on his face made her feel rather foolish for doing so. "Wait, Chris. I have to tell you something… About Captain Wesker…"

His face became cheerless. "Don't worry. I know…"

"You saw…"

"The slides," he nodded, patting her hand, "yeah, I did. Don't worry. We're going to deal with him." Rebecca nodded and followed him into the elevator.

"Another thing," she piped up as the doors closed behind them. "Barry's in on it with Wesker. He's working for him." Chris stiffened upon hearing this, and Rebecca couldn't help but sink away, sensing a sudden rise in anger. "He knocked Jill out and took her away to the cells…" There was a clunk and the elevator droned as it began its bleak descent.

"Barry…" Chris muttered lowly. He clutched the Magnum in his hand tighter then necessary. "Why… Why _you_… ?"

Rebecca's eyes faced front, watching the wall lights vividly streak passed. "Wesker's threatening his family. That's what I heard…"

Chris glanced at her, some relief filtering his anger. "I knew there had to be a legitimate reason. Barry just wouldn't betray us for nothing." He looked Rebecca in the eye. "Barry's family mean the world to him. I understand if he's had to do this to protect them."

"But he could have fought harder…" Rebecca felt bad for saying the thought aloud. She couldn't understand not in the position herself.

"For now, we focus on Wesker," Chris told her. "We'll deal with Barry later if it comes to it." Though he said the words with obvious reluctance. Rebecca silently nodded in response.

At least she could trust Chris, that was the main thing. He had not once betray her. Ignoring the fact he'd run off trying to play hero on his own, she couldn't help but admire his dedication to his duties. And mostly his resolve to protect those around him by putting his life on the line. Both he and Jill were true heroes. Rebecca wished she had their strength of will.

_But you do, _a little confident voice inside her whispered into her ear. _You're here right now, about to face down the man that purposely led your team out to their deaths. _Her jaw clenched with determination. By God, she was going to stand firm. Though, she couldn't help but shudder when the elevator came to the bottom of B4. She was glad the vibrations rippling through the aging metal hid the motion.

The elevator doors whined as they opened up to a darkened, hazy corridor. Chris took the initiative to step out first, and without instruction, she followed at his heel, swallowing back her worries.

A fresh mist was leaking from one of the thin pipes snaking across the wall. There was a faint smell of rotten eggs lingering, telling her not to take any deep breaths anytime soon. She kept pace with her comrade, who never faltering in a single step as he jogged on ahead, taking a turn that led into a short corridor, lit by a section of low green lights all the way up to a single door.

The biohazard symbol plastered there should have put off any sane man. But this wasn't about common sense anymore - it was about getting even. Or more so, getting justice for those who'd been mercilessly killed.

The key card reader beside the door indicated it was unlocked. Unflinching, they stepped up to face whatever horrors awaited them. A pressure pad just in front of the door activated when Chris's foot touched it, instantaneously raising the door with a rasping hiss.

They were finally in the heart of the laboratory. The map Rebecca had seen on the computer had made the room look bigger then she'd expected. The grubby ashen walls were masked with computer screens and digital consoles, flashing and bleeping away, displayed readings made foreign by a complex language of codes. There were a number of thick glass cylinders in the centre of the room, hooked up by wires and pumps filtering through the ceiling. All contained strange pulsating alien-looking appendages. God only knew what they were or what they once belonged to, but now they thrived inside their liquid containment cells, highlighted sadistically under a blue hued light. On the other side of the room (blocked off by a barrier on their side) were what appeared to be security control panels. They were on standby.

The room, as brilliant as it seemed to be, had since lost its purpose of being, now just a bleak shell in the depths of the world of the dead. Not that it seemed to bother Wesker, who was tapping away at a PC directly forward of them. He didn't even raise his head to their entrance. It was obvious he'd been expecting them at some point. Unthreatened, he switched windows on screen, the main processor next to him grinding hard as it worked to keep up with him.

Chris stopped a few metres away from his Captain, and Rebecca kept herself but a few paces just behind him. She hated the fact the Captain kept his back to them, so cock sure of himself.

"Wesker…" Chris's voice was even. She was impressed by his sense of control, though his eyes couldn't hide the burning rage he was feeling.

The older man still tapped away, the screen flickering from window to window at a breakneck pace as he began to the process of activating something in the lab. "So, you've finally come… You know, Chris, you make me proud surviving this far. I didn't expect any less of you, seeing as you're one of my men after all."

Chris scoffed, hardly impressed by the faux-compliment. "Gee, thanks," he uttered sarcastically.

Finally, Wesker ceased his typing at the keyboard and turned, his Beretta suddenly in his hand as he gave Chris his full attention, a faint smile on his lips. Rebecca inwardly seethed, and wished she could find something to say, but she didn't have the guts to speak up with a gun in the equation.

Chris was not in the least intimidated. "Since when, Wesker?"

"I'm afraid that I don't know what you mean."

"Since when have they been slipping you a pay check?!" His snapped, loudly.

Wesker stepped away from his console, gun focused directly on Chris's face. He moved just close enough so that his subordinate couldn't knock the weapon from his hand. He shook his head a little, not very impressed. "I don't think you understand…" He cocked his head, regarding Chris's darkened expression closely, as if drinking up the hatred masked there. "… I've ALWAYS been with Umbrella." The smoothness of his words caused a twitch in the younger man's face.

Rebecca chewed her lip, tucking her shaking fingers tightly into the palms of her hands. It stung to hear the words out in the open - to confirm the horrifying truth right from the lips of the betrayer.

"And S.T.A.R.S…" he continued, sharing a glance between the two younger members. "Were Umbrella's… no…" A snigger was restrained, pushed away in favour of a conceited smile. "MY little piggies…" Chris was starting to shake, close to releasing the rage sitting just beneath the skin. Rebecca herself was torn between anger and a new sense of fear. There was something quite disturbing about Wesker - about the way he spoke, and how he regarded them. He was toying with them, setting them up for further torture, but enjoying every second he could to strip down their defensive walls. No matter how uneasy she felt, she held her ground.

"The 'Tyrant Virus' leaked, polluting this entire area. And, well, unfortunately I had to give up my…" Rebecca could feel his eyes linger on her, even though she could not see them. "… _precious _members of S.T.A.R.S." He mock-sighed softly. "Such a shame."

"Y-You killed them all…" Chris stabbed his finger at him, close to his breaking point. "… You dirty son of a bitch!"

"No…" She breathed. _No more! I don't want to hear it! _- She'd wanted to say, but the wind was knocked out of her by reality's invisible punch. She knew she'd have to face the truth put in words - to have to hear it for all its sadistic worth, but it was driving her further into despair, and she wanted to do nothing more then to scream her heart out.

Wesker's chuckled at her response. "Oh yes, my dear. It was all me. All my work." The pride in his voice brought bile to the back of her throat. "I killed them… Just like this…"

The gun that had been pointed at Chris was now aimed at her. Before she could even respond he pulled the trigger, the sound almost explosive.

The pain in her chest was burned like nothing she had ever felt before and the air in her lungs suddenly vanished without a trace. Her eyes widened, mouth opening to form words - or maybe even scream - but only silence sat on her tongue as she felt her body turn ice cold. As the numbness set in, her body seemed to become as light as a feather, and she knew she was falling but was unable to feel the motion, nor stop it.

"Rebecca!"

Chris's dismayed cry was distorted. Deepened, muffled, becoming distant…

Her clarity of the room around her quickly reduced. The glowing machines blurred and faded into the nothingness as she fell into the unwanted depths of darkness.

_I don't want to die… Not here, not like this… _

All thoughts ceased after the words passed through her suddenly nonexistent being.


	21. Chapter 21: Save Me From Myself

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is __ to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**A/N: I know this is a long time coming, but I had some trouble writing this chapter, as I wasn't sure what I wanted to happen. It is nothing like I originally planned it, as I decided I wanted to make it somewhat of a different 'experience' so to say, to my other chapters. I hope you find it an interesting read. As of the next chapter, as I've mentioned, I will be slightly deviating in the scenario to fit my story rather then being completely game orientated. Anyway, on with the show!**

**Chapter 21: Save Me From Myself**

Existence - as she knew it - was now merely a vast and endless nothingness. A darkness stretching far beyond seeing eyes, where only a thin veil of fog lingered without purpose. Time had no baring, just as lost in the oblivion as hope - no chance to escape the thick blanket of eternal night.

Rebecca couldn't feel bitterness, sadness or resentment for ending up in such a place. In fact, she couldn't remember what emotions were or felt like. She had become a disembodied being, no longer attached to the weak sentiments that had once controlled her life. She was but thin air, floating aimlessly in the misty darkness, wondering what kind of place this was - heaven, hell or a place in between? - and trying to consider what to do next. Because she could not feel emotion, she could only look upon things with a simple logic left behind in her metaphysical self. She had become almost computer-like.

She considered her situation rationally. If she were dead, how could she still process thoughts? Wouldn't she have completely vanished from existence? How could it be that she'd come to subsist in a soulless dimension, acknowledging the world around her with eyes and thoughts that could not comprehend beyond basic common sense? Was this what it was like to be a ghost?

Her last memories replayed themselves over like a flickering film reel. She'd been facing Captain Wesker with Chris when he'd shot her in the chest. That dull pain she'd felt seemed so distant - like it had happened years ago - and the more she tried to focus on that feeling, the harder it was to remember. She would have felt sad if she could, but that was a foreign thought now.

As she pondered more of the fading images inside her head, so took notice of something glinting in the dark before her, taking form into a hazy animation, like a film projector suddenly kicking to life. At first, she thought it was just another memory playing itself out, but as the two ghostly figures became more solid, she knew that these were pictures being played out somewhere else and not apart of her own recollection.

The figures were Chris and Wesker, semi-transparent in form, and painted in a cloudy blue hue. They were talking soundlessly. The former's expression was stiff and fiery, while the latter's was calm and confident, disregarding his companion's obvious ire completely.

The Captain began to walk towards a machine, vaguely highlighted in the odd little scene - only taking on a more solid form when his hand finally touched its surface. It was a computer terminal. The rest of the background where the two stood was lost in a blanket of black.

Wesker tapped on the computer with one hand, while the other clutching his gun remained trained on Chris. He was saying something further to his subordinate who was simply forced to listen on a knifes edge. She could not work out what was being said - the captain's lips were moving too quickly.

Then Wesker turned to look at something, smiling, and he stretched his arms out in a sort of welcoming gesture. Rebecca couldn't see what he was looking at, but whatever it was, Chris's expression turned to one of abhorrence. His bemusement was more apparent by the soundless laugh that tweaked his grim face.

Seconds later, something pierced right through Wesker's chest. Thick, smoky globules shot from his back - what had have clearly been blood if there had been any colour and solidity to what she was seeing. The Captain was bent over forward onto a large, sharp appendage that had punctured his sternum. As Rebecca stared at it further, she noticed, that from the shape, it looked like a hand. A large, deformed one at that.

A claw.

The images quickly faded back into nothingness

To her right, a light began to emanate. There seemed to be no valid source for it, peaking her curiosity to its existence.

Where her sight came to rest, right there under the glaring white light, she found herself staring at a stone slab, about a metre and a half off the invisible ground. On top of the slab was a corpse.

Her corpse.

Above her head, something crackled and hummed - the faint sound of white noise - and then, Rebecca's own voice.

"_Hi, Mom. It's me. Thanks for the food package. It really helped a lot." _It sounded like a recording - a repeat of a dialogue she remembered writing in a letter she had sent back home to her family. It was a strange contrast between the lively, happy voice sounding overhead and the body laying stiff on the slab. _"I don't have much here at the moment. Only getting a little money while I'm still in training. So, I'm kind of living on powdered soup and green tea at the moment."_

Freshly dead, her pale, naked skin was glowing alabaster white. There were no visible wounds on her body yet she did not breath or show any signs of life. Her expression was one so placid it was almost as if she were asleep.

Curiously, Rebecca floated over, invisible eyes locked on herself. Her body was in perfect condition, whatever trauma or illness had claimed her was unseen, making it seem somewhat unnatural. She had been shot, she was clear on that, but there was no entry wound nor bruising to her chest. Her body was intact - sculptured to perfection, from her dainty fingers to the perfect roundness or her modestly sized breasts. She was now but a piece of artwork, a lifeless doll with no further purpose.

"_You'd love Raccoon City," _her voice continued, chatty and cheerful. _"Its quite a big place, but not like how home is. Just enough to see and do without it being too crowded. People seem to know each other, so it feels so homely. And the people at work have been so welcoming. Well, most of them have. Some of them are still staring at me like some kid."_

Footsteps echoed across the obsidian plane and her eyes drifted from her corpse to the approaching figure.

The flutter of a crisp white lab coat first caught her eye, swiftly upturning her gaze across to a lissom figure. There was no mistaking the face behind the trademark sunglasses, just as emotionless as ever.

Wesker came to a stop against the slab. His hands were dug deep into his pockets, gazing down upon her corpse as if browsing at the butchers counter at the supermarket.

"_I'm really excited about joining S.T.A.R.S. They're all so talented and professional. I might be smart, but I feel so inferior. I hope that I fit in and they like me. Its so hard to find people who actually want to get to know me. But I'm not going to give up."_

Just behind him, a flicker of light in the darkness, as another ghostly scene played out. Chris was back to starring in the blue-tinted silent movie, his expression gritted as he back-peddled hastily, gun firing as quickly as he could pull the trigger. Appearing from thin air, was the creature that Chris was trying to put down. Rebecca recalled vividly a similar monster she had faced the day before. A humanoid creature, like a giant, with its pulsating heart protruding from its gigantic chest. But there was something more complete about this being. Something more dangerous.

Its casual advance was as disturbing as its permanent lipless grin. But lacking the feelings that should have been in place, she relied simply on Chris's awkward grimace as he focused all his efforts of disabling his opponent.

"_Tomorrow I'm going to work with the BRAVO team's chemist. His name is Kenneth, I think. He's going to give me the run down on the daily office activities, as well as setting me up with my own schedule. I'm not going to be doing all the same things as the others. They want to utilise my medical skills. I'll have to wait and see what they have planned for me." _

It raised its mighty club of an arm, upon the end was a terrifying mace like claw, imbedded with long, sharp bone spurs, which in the blink of an eye, were crashing down towards Chris. He jumped back, narrowly avoiding the blow. The images vanished once more and her attention turned back to Wesker, who removed his hand from his pocket, and with it, a very interesting looking item.

A gleam of light caught the edge of the sterile scalpel blade as he admired it under the unknown light source. It was easy to guess what he planned to do with it. She had a ringside seat to her own dissection, and she had no way to react at all. He was going to enjoy every second of this autopsy. The final act of humiliation upon her former self.

"_I get so tired from all the long days. One day I'm at the police station, doing paperwork and shadowing the others to get into the swing of things, and the next day, I'm off in training - climbing ropes, jumping over fake walls and going through the arresting procedure. But I wouldn't trade it for anything. Its hard but its really fun."_

He set down the scalpel briefly to remove a pair of surgical gloves from his breast pocket, skilfully slipping them on. He flexed his fingers inside the tight rubber, making them as comfort as possible before retrieving the knife. He turned his attention to the soft spot of her torso, swabbing the area in preparation, and slowly, as if savouring the moment, lowered the sharp blade towards her. And she watched from her hovering place, like a fascinated child being taught a fundamental lesson.

"_Captain Wesker chose me specifically, I don't know why. I think he feels I have that certain something to be in S.T.A.R.S. I really hope he's right. I really don't want to let him down. He's such a respectable man."_

She was absorbed, frozen in place, eyes to the blades cutting edge that within seconds would pierce into the cold flesh of her former body and tear the perfectly pale skin open.

_SLAP! _With lightning speed the once dead hand was clutching his at the wrist, just before the scalpel could cut her flesh.

"_I should really go to bed. Its getting late. I'll write to you again soon when something exciting happens. I wonder when I'll get to go on my first assignment? I shouldn't really jump the gun at this stage. I'm still learning all the important stuff. Its the rookie excitement getting the best of me. Talk to you soon, Mom. Keep your phone somewhere in sight. Love you!" _And the voice faded out with a loud click.

Sightless eyes snapped open, and the bony, cold fingers dug tighter into the offending wrist and stopped any further intrusive movement. He tried to push forward but couldn't, and tried to pull back, and was unable to escape her grip. He was trapped within her clutches, as Rebecca's corpse turned lazily to stare up at the expressionless face, that awaited for the next action with as just as much curiosity as the floating apparition.

The zombie corpse bared her teeth and gave a feral cry, lurching up and punching her free hand directly into his chest. The sharpness of her hand must have been sword like as her hand went straight through skin and bone with such ferocity that his life blood practically exploded around them. Instead of waves of deep red, thick mucilaginous black fluid splashed against skin and stone.

Wesker's expression gaped, mouth slightly parted as if to speak, but nothing came out. He did not scream nor thrash at the hand speared into his chest. His body remained frozen, leaned over Rebecca's undead carcass, as she tore and groped unseen inside his diaphragm, forcing more and more of the gunk-like blood all over her pale body with little reaction aside the ravenous determination to mutilate the man before her.

With a vicious tug in a spray of bodily fluids, she tore out his heart. The organ revealed clutched in her palm, was as black as the blood that had flowed through his body. The lump of muscle beat just once before becoming as still as the stone she lay on.

The invisible Rebecca stared long and hard at Wesker's heart. It looked like a rotten piece of fruit, more so by the inky puss leaking from its torn valves.

_He was a cold and calculating man, _an unknown voice spoke within her ambiguous shell. _It is no surprise his heart was a decaying black husk. _It sounded like her own bitter thoughts, yet she still could not feel, nor understand where those words had come from. Was there still some life left inside her?

Her reanimated corpse lifted the organ to her mouth, oblivious to the statue-like Wesker still leaning over her and gleefully sunk her teeth into it. As she tore a chunk away from his heart, Wesker shattered into oblivion, like breaking glass. His entire body disappeared into nothingness with a twinkle of each particle drifting into obscurity.

And the light disappeared, her body and all.

And Rebecca felt it. The sensation of true existence.

What felt like falling a thousand miles jolted her with a sharp, stomach-wrenching slam as she merged back inside her body, and with it, a million and one emotions that she'd thought lost forever, suddenly returned in a great crashing wave. She gasped desperately, sobbing until she could control her ragged breaths. Her body quaked relentlessly, only starting to slow as she got used to the feeling again of being attached to something real and solid.

She looked down at herself, lifting her hands to face, flexing each digit slowly one at a time, just to be sure of how real she was. It was still her, back in her own body, clothed in her S.T.A.R.S. uniform. Very much alive, unlike how her body had been before on that cold slab.

Though there was a sense of joy and relief that she was indeed still alive, it soon faded into loss and confusion. Even if she was alive, where had she ended up? Or maybe this was an illusion of being alive and she was on her way to the world beyond.

Distantly, she could hear gunshots echoing, and she swiftly turned, scanning the darkness for any other signs of life.

Nothing.

Nobody else was there.

And there were no more ghostly images to behold.

Something started to ring, jolting her brusquely from the sudden weight of loneliness. This sound was much closer, echoing inside her head with an acute sharpness. Where was it coming from?

It took her a moment to find the source, for the fact the sound didn't really have a specific location with how it echoed around her, and the fact the object itself was nearly as black as her surroundings.

A telephone.

She stared at it with disbelief as it rang out for attention. She had no time to deliberate how such an item could end up in a place like this, let alone work, when she realised it was calling to her voicelessly with its ring.

_Answer me, answer me…_

Slowly but surely she crawled over, eyes pinned on the wailing handset, shuddering a little with each loud bell. Within inches of it, the young medic tentatively picked up the receiver with a slight clink off its hook that echoed louder then it should have. Pressing the piece to her ear, she listened, but there was no sound on the other end. Not even breathing.

"Hello?" She answered hesitantly.

"You have a call waiting for you. Will you accept?" It was a woman's voice, sweet and smooth, but one she did not recognise.

"Who is this?"

"You have a call waiting for you. Will you accept?" She repeated in the same tone.

"Oh… uh, okay. Yes, I accept." She didn't know what else to do.

"Thank you. Hold one moment as I transfer." And her voice was replaced by something that sounded like soft music, but it was too much like a hum to Rebecca's ears. She knelt there patiently, lips clenched in wonder. Who on Earth wanted to reach her?

_Its not real, _She told herself. _I'm trapped in some crazy delusion where nothing has any real meaning. I'm just lonely and want someone to talk to. That's got to be the reason…_

After a minute, there was a click and the humming tune disappeared, instead replaced by a new voice. This time, one that she surprisingly recognised. "Rebecca… Are you there?"

Her back with rigid with shock, her hand almost dropping the receiver. "Richard?" It couldn't be - it was impossible! - he was dead! This had to be some kind of bizarre hallucination.

"I know its hard to believe, but its me." To hear his gentle voice again was torture to her broken heart. He had been killed in the line of duty, there was no possible way she could have a phone conversation with the dead.

"This isn't real… I must be dreaming…" She said, more to herself then the 'ghost' on the other end of the line.

"Believe me, Rebecca. You're really having this conversation. Now, listen carefully. You may think you're dead, but you're not. That shot didn't kill you."

"Wait, but how… ?"

"Rebecca, your vest. Its bullet proof." Her jaw hung open with disbelief. As if noticing it for the first time, she glanced down. "Your vest saved your life. You're still alive, just unconscious."

She poked the vest, feeling pretty stupid. Of course her vest was bullet proof! How could she have been so stupid? She blamed it on the shock of the shot.

"I must have hit my head when I fell," she surmised. "It makes sense to me now… Well, I think it does anyway…"

"You're going to wake up soon, Rebecca," he continued. "When you do, you have to destroy the mansion and the labs. You have all the codes you need on those papers you found. The self destruct system will destroy the entire mansion area and eradicate the monsters. You just have to hang on a little longer. You're going to be saved."

"This can't be right," she said, rather distracted from his words. "You're dead… How can you be talking to me?"

"Forget about that for now, Rebecca. It doesn't matter about me. That's over and done with. You're still alive, and I want it to stay that way. Do your best, Rebecca. If you help signal for Brad in the chopper, he will pick you up and all this will be over."

"But you're still dead…" She said softly, wiping her eyes with the back of her glove.

"I'm sorry, Rebecca. I didn't mean to leave you on your own. I thought I was doing what was best. Can you forgive me?"

Rebecca sighed, leaning her head back tiredly. "You didn't do anything wrong. Its me who should be sorry. I let you down."

"This mission was beyond anything we could ever imagine. I couldn't have expected more from you. You're the lucky one, Rebecca. You're not meant to die in that God forsaken place."

The sincerity in his voice made her want to cry more, but she blinked back the tears. She turned her thoughts back to what he said moments ago. "How do you know Brad will rescue us?"

"Just believe me, I know…" He sighed, sadly. "I wish I could have escaped with you, Rebecca. But this is just how things were meant to be. I'm sorry that I have to leave you now. There was so much more I wanted to say."

"Don't go… Please…"

"Goodbye, Rebecca…" Before she could say another word, the line went dead.

Swallowing hard, she sunk back on her heels, the hand holding the receiver falling to her lap.

Suddenly a light pierced overhead, its brilliance temporarily blinding her. She covered her face, dropping the phone that vanished with the fading shadows.

"Rebecca!" This time, it was Chris. A warmth wrapped around her and she gazed up into the heart of the light. He was up there, and his voice alone was drawing her back.

For now she had escaped death, thankfully reaching out to the heavenly light, once again embracing reality and the conscious world, filled with determination.

_I will fight and I will survive!_


	22. Chapter 22: Fighting to the Last

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is __ to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**A/N: This chapter was so much easier to write then the last. Can't believe how quickly I managed to type this out. Very pleased with myself, seeing as this is probably the quickest update I've done for this story.**

**Chapter 22: Fighting to the Last**

Chris's warmth was an appealing summon back to the living, breathing, conscious world.

Rebecca awoke sharply from her unwanted sleep, cradled in between the arms of her comrade. Just as she took a quick gasp of air at the dull pain coursing through her chest, she was wracked with a coughing fit - hacking until the tightness in her chest dissipated. The whole time, Chris rubbed the crown of her back considerately.

Though there lingered a heavy ache throughout her torso, there were no other existing pain of any sort. She'd expected more beyond her current condition - still alive and maybe even fighting fit - albeit being battered and bruised from the traumatising events of the past two nights.

"Rebecca," Chris softly spoke, drawing her blinking eyes up to his face. It took her by surprise to see the fresh 'war wounds' marring his face. A large red bruise was imprinted above the left temple transverse opposite a set of three large scratches marking his upper right cheek, which were already starting to swell up. But they didn't seem to bother him all the much. He was smiling softly, his concerns obviously more for her then himself.

She was thankful. Not only for his selflessness, but for the fact he was still alive.

_I don't know what I would have done if anything had happened to you, too…_

"Chris… You're okay," she muttered softly, croaking somewhat from the dry tightness in the back of her throat.

"It should be me saying that." He grinned, patting her chest until she winced, making him stop with an awkward, apologetic smile. "Good thing you were wearing your vest."

"Yeah…" Touching the front of the stained bullet proof skin, she felt the entry point of the bullet, which itself, was wedged into the lining. Disgusted, she plucked the compacted projectile from its hole and tossed it away. In that second, she finally noticed the creature laying face down a few metres away from her feet. The hand that had thrown the bullet away remained frozen momentarily in its extended pose, unable to tear her gaze from the hulking grey mass, unmoving amongst broken glass and spent carriages.

The ultimate killing machine. The Tyrant.

She held her breath. "That thing…" The images inside her head came back to her, the ones that she'd seen in a ghostly hue. Had they really happened after all? Had she in some way consciously acknowledged what was going on around her while she was in her comatose state?

"Don't worry," another voice interposed, "its not getting back up." She finally tore her eyes from the monstrosity to the figure behind her, slowly trundling out of the shadows. The disbelief she felt was insurmountable.

_Barry… _The uncertainty crossing her face caused him to stop. _Where did he come from? How longs he been here? _Her eyes narrowed with anger when she remembered what he'd done to Jill. Some team mate he'd turned out to be.

"You…" She hissed bitterly, fists clenched on her lap.

"Its okay, Rebecca," Chris tried to assure her. "He's on our side."

"How can you be so sure? You didn't see what he did." Her eyes never fell from the older man. "Jill trusted you." She seethed, gritting her teeth. Barry's discomfort was obvious, and he had to turn away from her burning glare, guilt seeping out like the sweat budding on his brow.

"I didn't have a choice," he declared, shamefully.

"Everyone has a choice," she butted in, voice thick with contempt.

Barry turned back to her, ready to plead his case. He wanted her to understand "My family…" But before he could start into his explanation, Chris cut in, raising his hand to tell him to stop.

"Look, lets save the interrogation for later." Barry simply nodded and let the conversation rest for now.

Chris helped the young medic to her feet, holding her until she was steady enough to stand without aid. "Listen, Rebecca. Barry saved my life. If he hadn't have turned up when he did, I might have been butchers meat. If he was really working against us, why would he try to save my life? He didn't have to come back to the lab if he knew what Wesker was planning."

_True, _she thought, though didn't say it aloud. Even so, she couldn't help but feel that he could still be deceiving them for purposes unknown. But his guilty expression did not seem fake. When she'd met him in the underground, he'd shown too much unease to be the type to play them for fools. He was no actor. Even though a part of herself told her to trust what Chris was saying, she was still upset over his treatment of Jill, and the stiffness in her expression remained, though she decided not to continue her verbal punishment.

She would give the man a chance, because of Chris, but she wouldn't drop her guard for one second.

Though speaking of a proven traitor… "Where's Wesker?" She scanned the lab, taking only a minute to locate the Alpha team Captain, partially obscured by one of the large tubes in the middle of the room. He was laying motionless in a pool of blood, spilled from the gaping hole in his gut.

Just like she'd seen inside her 'dream'.

"He got what was coming to him," Chris spat with condemnation, not even turning to look at the corpse of his former Captain. "And what more deserving a way then to be killed by his own creation."

Barry stepped past them, veering around the motionless bulk of the Tyrant and over to Wesker's body. He knelt down, bending into retrieve something from his utility belt. Rebecca couldn't quite see what he was getting with the tube in the way and simply frowned in response.

When he stood again, he turned, an object swinging below his clenched fist. A key.

Barry offered a smile, pocketing the item. "The master key. We'll need this to break Jill out."

"Okay then, lets get moving." Chris reloaded his Magnum, the click of the closing chamber echoing around the room. "There's nothing more we can do here."

"Here, Chris." Rebecca stepped up, reaching into her medical pack. "Take these," she said as she offered him a handful of green and red herbs, "you look like you need them."

"Oh, yummy," he sarcastically quipped, though accepted the medicinal plants without a fuss. "Thanks, Rebecca. Good thing I've got you looking after my health." She gave a thumbs up in response.

"I don't know about you, but this place is starting to get on my nerves." Barry was the first to head for the door. "If we can manage to open the emergency exit, we might be able to make our way up to the helipad."

"The helipad?" Chris asking, starting to follow.

"I found a manual for procedures in case of an emergency. There was a clearly marked map for the helipad, accessible through the door on B1.'

She recalled the door he was thinking of. "Do you think that key will open it?"

Barry shrugged. "I guess so. Wesker mentioned the key could access pretty much every door in the lab area, no matter the security clearance." He unlocked the lab door by the side panel and exited as it slid up into the ceiling. Chris gently nudged her shoulder, insisting that she should go next. Without argument, she clutched her gun for assurance and followed Barry out of the room, pausing briefly just outside the door as she waited for the sharpshooter to exit.

The trio entered the elevator without a backwards glance. Chris punched the button for 'level 3' and the gates closed with a heavy clunk. They bid their goodbyes to their treacherous Captain and his demented lab as they began their ascent back to the floor above.

The short ride was a quiet one. Tired but alert, they remained in silence, though this was mainly because of the tension emanating from Rebecca - the uneasiness directed at the veteran policeman leaning against the back panel. Until she felt that he'd redeemed himself for his betrayal, Barry was going to have to endure her resentment. She'd work with him, but at the same time, she'd be keeping him under close scrutiny. The elevator finally came to a stop back on 'B-3' and they filed out into the empty corridor.

That's when she recalled what she was meant to do. The words that had come to her in the form of her deceased comrade suddenly came flooding back into her head.

"Chris, wait," she implored.

He turned mid-step. "What is it?"

"We don't know how many more monsters are hiding out here, nor do we know how much more of the virus is being stored down here. If we don't destroy this place, there's a potential it could leak out further then the mansion."

"What are you suggesting?"

"We have to blow this entire place up! I've located the self destruct system in the power room. I have the codes to set it off."

Chris snapped his fingers. "Right! The show must go on! Can I leave that up to you?"

"I'm on it," she said with a nod.

"Chris," Barry interjected. "You guard the main passage and wait for Rebecca. I'll go on ahead and free Jill from her cell. By that time the self destruct sequence should be in motion and we can all head for the exit."

"Good plan," he responded, and turned back to Rebecca. "Get moving. I want out of this cesspit."

"You don't have to tell me twice!" Rebecca took off towards the power room, keeping herself keenly alert in case of danger. Who knew if more of those freaky fly experiments were hanging around. She didn't want another confrontation, especially since she was only armed with her 'peashooter'.

After all the misery she'd been through, she was finally putting an end to this nightmare once and for all. Nobody else was going to suffer because of Umbrella's costly mistakes.

She rushed from room to room, eyes darting to every shadowed corner to keep an eye out for potential enemy threats. There was a chance that those things might regroup of her. It wasn't as if it hadn't happened before. But her luck was holding out. She and Jill must have eradicated all the enemies in the close vicinity.

Entering the final room, she rounded the thrumming generator, reaching the self destruct console just as she fished out the relevant paperwork from her pack. Though they were torn and crumpled, she still clearly had the codes she needed and activated the monitor, scrolling down to the relevant option and punching in enter to the self destruct system.

A secondary window popped up, asking her for three names and passwords to bypass the security interface. The ones she needed were penned on the sheets.

_**Thorpe, X12T600 - Schneider, Y58L850 - Duvall, Z09Q375**_. Another security screen replaced the last, requesting the final code. She typed in exactly what was transcribed on the paper. _**TREVOR001**_.

_Bitter irony… _She scowled and hit enter. A final screen came up with a red warning box.

'Please be aware that once the self destruct system has been activated, the process can not be aborted. You will have ten minutes to evacuate the area. A final warning will be issued when seven minutes have elapsed. Will you continue? [Yes] or [No]?'

Rebecca didn't hesitate to click the YES button. The lights suddenly dropped as the on screen displayed a sidebar, indicating that the labs systems were rerouting the power. Then with an ear-splitting roar, the klaxons sounded, and a computerised female voice came over the speaker system.

'_The self destruct system has been activated. All personnel must evacuate immediately. Deactivating and releasing all locks.'_

"Bye, bye, lab," Rebecca muttered to herself as she made a swift exit, ignoring the prim, nonchalant voice overhead repeating the same smooth albeit dire message over and over at short intervals.

Chris was waiting for her at the door to the of the lab's square epicentre. The body of one of the insect-like creatures was crumpled at his feet.

"Didn't take you long," he shouted to be heard over the blaring alarm system.

"I wasn't going to hang around for the fireworks," she shouted back and the two ran out into the corridor, past the rotating fan and down to the door where the cells were located.

The corridor was littered with corpses, every single one of them missing their heads. They were fresh kills. Chris kicked aside their withered, grey carcasses and led the way down to the large, solid iron door at the end. The security panel to the side indicated with three green lights that each corresponding lock had been released. Chris pushed on the handle and the creaky door whined open. Down at the bottom of the gloomy stairwell was a turn towards a lone cell, the door of which was wide open.

Both appeared in the doorway, looking inside the dingy, sparsely furnished cell. A sink, a toilet and a bed was all that decorated the depressingly damp confines in which Barry and Jill were stood. On turning to the newcomers, the latter's placid expression lit up on the sight of Chris and she rushed over to him, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. He responded by gently resting his hands just above her hips.

"Oh, Chris!" She exclaimed with relief. "You're alright! I just knew I'd see you again."

"I'm glad you're still in one piece," he responded, softly, stroking the lower curve of her back.

Rebecca had to look away. It gave her pangs of longing to see her fellow Bravo comrades, alive and well. Especially Richard. She was suppose to hit him for that kiss he'd given her and return his chain. Well, maybe not hit him, but certainly return his property. But that scenario was never going to happen.

"Lets save this for when we get out of here," Barry interrupted, pointing out (without saying) their obvious predicament.

Jill parted the hug, giving a simple nod. "He's right. Lets just get out of here."

Rebecca noted that Jill didn't seem to be harbouring any sort of resentment towards Barry, even after he'd clobbered her over the back of the head. She didn't know how Chris and Jill could be so forgiving - or trusting for that matter - but she figured it was duty over emotion and was ashamed of her own behaviour. Who was to say if they were still angry or not, but they were putting it on the back burner until they dealt with their current dilemma. She decided to do the same.

Boldly, she led the retreat back up the stairs, happy now Jill was firmly in their midst.

This was it, the last survivors from both S.T.A.R.S. teams. She hoped her luck would share itself out and they didn't lose anyone else before it was all said and done.

Rebecca opened the door back out into the squared corridor, and Jill joined her side, beckoning back to the trailing men. "Come on! Hurry!" She urged, and the two women passed on through.

The opposite vent suddenly burst open, and another of the insect creatures came crawling out, chattering hungrily. Jill blasted it back with her recently retrieved shotgun, leaving it open for Chris to finish off as they ran for the gate to the entry stairway. Beyond, a horde of naked, skeletal zombies were shambling on the steps, wailing their mournful song.

"God, where do these freaks keep coming from?!" Jill pumped her gun and flung open the gate, unloading a shell into the closest, which spun before tumbling down the flight of steps, minus a massive chunk of its head.

Rebecca unloaded a clip into the next, taking out its knees. The steps did the rest for her as it landed hard on its head and neck, snapping the spine like a twig. As she aimed to shoot at the next, she found she was out of ammo. "Damn!" Jill covered her as she rummaged her pack for another clip.

"Here!" She turned in time to see Barry throwing her a clip of 9mm ammunition. She caught it with her free hand, surprising herself. Usually she'd have fumbled a catch like that. She nodded her thanks, ejecting the empty clip and slamming in the fresh one. By the time she'd done that, there was no zombies left to shoot as Jill had already incapacitated the last of the crowd on the steps.

Chris went ahead of the young medic. "Stay behind me," he told her. He did have the better weapon after all so she didn't complain, simply following after him and Jill with Barry covering the rear.

Two more zombies, thankfully dressed in shabby lab attire, were on the upper walkway waiting for them, though they were quickly despatched by Chris and Jill with single head-caving shots. Dodging the debris of corpses, the four bolted back into the entrance room.

Chris paused as he reached the ladder on the far side, stepping aside as the two women approached. "Ladies first."

Jill smirked. "Too kind." She shouldered her shotgun with the grenade launcher and began to ascend, briefly glancing down at Rebecca. "Keep up!" Rebecca nodded and followed up after her, her focus switching between the burning in her calf muscles and the invisible clock inside her head, trying to figure out how much time had passed since she'd activated the self destruct. They hadn't had a warning yet for the final three minute countdown.

The large door to the emergency exit awaited them. Jill was already pushing it open as Rebecca scrambled off the ladder. She stopped with surprise. Behind her, the hurried clatter of steps brought the final two S.T.A.R.S onto their level.

"Didn't need the key after all," Rebecca thankfully sighed. "Makes sense though…" She turned back to the others. "… For the computer to unlock it with the self destruct system active."

"Well, at least we had it as back up," Chris said between pants, trying to get his breath back the best he could. "Keep moving, guys. We don't want to be in here when it goes up. Could make for a really shitty day."

Beyond the large door was a dim, narrow cement and grid-lined passage. From the cobwebs clinging to every corner, nobody had traversed it in some time. With caution, they headed down, once again led by Jill at a marathon pace. They rattled down each sharp turn like an army in disarray, stumbling on in hopes finally reaching the exit.

Suddenly, the radios attached to Rebecca, Chris and Barry's belts came to life, echoing Brad's desperate voice in surround sound. The signal wasn't all that good, making his voice phase in and out at any given moment.

"This is Brad… … I'm running out of fuel… … If you can hear me… … This is your last chance! Please… … Give me a sign somehow! I repeat… …. Your last chance…"

As his voice was swallowed in the screech of static, they pushed on, rounding the last corner to come face to face with a large fence-fronted elevator. The port for the main battery cell to the left was empty.

The elevator had no power.

"No!" Jill hissed with despair. It was too late to run back now.

Lucky for them, Rebecca spotted their required item resting on the floor in the corner.

"Its here!" She exclaimed, whipping it up and tossing it over to the other woman. She assumed that it had been pulled out to conserve the battery's power.

Jill jammed it into place, bringing the elevator to life. Just as she pulled back the gate, the computer's voice came back through the speakers.

"Three minutes to detonation."

A huge bang echoed down the corridor from the entrance and the roars of the remaining lab experiments reverberated brusquely down to their position. Barry and Chris were already back at the second to last turn, guns at the ready for the oncoming hordes.

Rebecca fearfully back-peddled, slamming into the half open elevator gate. "Oh no! Not now! We're almost out!"

"What are you doing?!" Jill demanded of the two men. "We don't have time for this!"

"Dammit…" Barry hissed under his breath and turned back to address Jill. "We'll hold them off! You girls get in contact with Brad!" In the next breath, he'd rushed off.

"What! But-"

"Jill, do as he says! We don't have time to argue. Get up top side now! Send the elevator back down as quickly as you can!" When the sounds of Barry's gun rang down the corridor, Chris too was gone.

Rebecca had opened the elevator, stepping inside. "Come on!" She called back to her remaining comrade, who with a sigh, did as was asked. The young medic jammed the up button and the door slammed shut. Seconds later, they were making a rapid ascent.

"I hope those muscle heads don't get themselves killed," Jill said humourlessly, focusing intensely at the slightly dinted wall panel to one side. Rebecca said nothing in response, simply staring at the glowing green arrow button, inwardly chanting '_faster, faster, faster_' like a mantra. Soon, the artificial lights in the wall were replaced by the glare of morning sunlight.

The doors opened as the elevator jolted to an abrupt stop, bringing in the welcoming sight daybreak. Nothing can have surpassed the sheer beauty of another bright summer dawn. Rebecca was glad to get a good lungful of clean mountain air again. They stepped out onto the large helipad before them, though not before Jill punched the down button and the doors slammed closed behind them, the elevator soon disappearing back down to retrieve the others.

Rebecca shielded her face from the brilliance of the sun on the horizon, piercing through the line of trees surrounding the concrete wall fencing in the platform. The large gate she saw across the way didn't look like it'd open under any circumstances, and there were no other obvious exits.

They had to successfully signal Brad, or they were done for.

She could hear the helicopter, its engine whirring with a rumble on the breeze. He was close, but not yet within their sights. "How can we signal-" She turned to Jill, who'd already turned her attention to a pile of debris to one side of the elevator. Broken crates, planks, old barrels… but what Jill had managed to lay her hands on from amongst the mess was of much more importance.

"Bingo." She turned and headed to the white circle marking the centre of the helipad and set down the rectangle metal container in her hands, prying open the top to reveal six squared chambers. Within two were their Godsend.

FLARES!

Jill hit the corresponding button on the inner panel and quickly backed away to a safe distance. Rebecca jogged up to her side to watch the light show as a flare burst from its chamber and into the sky with a shrieking whiz. The following second of silence was immediately shattered as the explosion erupted in the morning sky. Even by daylight, the flare gave of a brilliance that could not be missed.

And the results were nigh on instantaneous.

The sound of the helicopter drawing on their position was a beautiful one. Rebecca felt like jumping up and down and cheering, but instead retained her composure and remained calm, though couldn't keep the grin off her face. Jill beside her simply looked tired but relieved.

Behind them, the elevator clunked back onto their level and the gates opened. Both women swung around, delighted to see both of their companions step out onto the pad.

"You made it!" Jill called back. Chris gave a thumbs up, rubbing his arm where a large bruise was starting to form. Barry looked a little more ruffled, but none more the worse for wear. He smiled and gave them a little salute.

Rebecca turned her attention back skywards as the helicopter came into sight, tussling the trees as its blades whipped the air around them. She pressed her hand to her forehead to keep her fringe from thrashing into her eyes. They had around two minutes left to get out of there.

Joy pulsed through her veins. After all the hoping and wondering if they were going to survive, they were finally there. An arms length away from salvation. Brad was pulling the chopper over and preparing to land. She sighed happily in the knowledge that she would live to see another day through.

_BOOM!!!_

The next thing she knew, she was dodging a chunk of flying concrete. Around them it was suddenly raining a mixture of dust and chunks from the helipad, leaving the poor medic lost in a mix of horror and confusion. The detonation couldn't have been just yet, she hadn't counted off three minutes…

… But they were still there, and there were no more explosions. _What's going on?! _Then she noticed her trio of team mates all had their weapons pointed at a large hole to one side of the platform and instinctively moved in to join them on their examination. Before she could ask what could have cause it, a grey blur jumped up through the hole and landed in a crouch on the platform.

To their horror, the rising behemoth that had joined them on the helipad was none other then the Tyrant, not quite as dead as they thought. It rear back, roaring in fury. It swiped its claw through the air, the bony ends lengthening into a much deadlier weapon.

_How is it still alive?!… _Rebecca's trembling hands clutched her Beretta to her chest, her heart beneath pumping faster and faster as the giant took a step towards them. _Maybe I should just accept it… I'm going to die here._


	23. Chapter 23: The Final Stand

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is __ to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**A/N: Took me a while to get this edited to how I liked and I had to make it work to the amount of time the characters had in the situation. But anyway, practically at the end now. One more to follow and that's the end of that. Hope you like this chapter! Its a free for all!**

**Chapter 23: The Final Stand**

Jill was the first to pull the trigger. The explosive sound was practically swallowed up by the guttural helicopter mechanics whirring above.

Tinkling bullet cases catching the sparkle of morning light fell one after the other, a cluster of silvery gold metal building in piles as the four remaining S.T.A.R.S teams banded together to put the hulking monstrosity down once more. The chorus of gunfire rang in Rebecca's ears furiously, though with gritted teeth she continued her attack, as feeble as it was with only the Beretta for defence.

The Tyrant kept approaching, even as it was pummelled by a barrage of weapon fire. The impacting ammunition grazed its ashen flesh, the gunpowder lightly charred its skin.

But it didn't falter; not even flinch as it slowly and purposefully covered the distance to their position.

In a sudden, fluid motion, it shot swiftly out of its stride, swinging a muscled arm like a club - a motion which was lost within a grey blur. Jill was the unfortunate recipient of the attack, taking the shot to her shoulder. Within seconds, she'd been tossed across the helipad at speeds unimaginable. Her landing was unceremonious, taking out the already broken crates and crushing them into splinters.

Though she rolled over onto her back, she didn't get back up.

"JILL!" Rebecca dodged back from the second swinging arm, claw skimming the air above her head, and ran across the platform to aid her companion.

Barry and Chris had scattered out of reach of the Tyrant's swipe, effectively splitting the group across the pad. Above them, their helicopter hovered with hesitance. Rebecca was starting to feel extremely afraid. Not simply for the Tyrant that was determined to drag them all down to hell, but also for the fact that Brad might abandon them again, leaving them to perish on that very platform when the place went up.

The young medic touched Jill's shoulder, receiving a pained hiss for a response. The older woman moved only to curl up on herself, face wracked with pain. Rebecca tried to make out her grumbles, but she soon realised it was nothing really coherent or spoken for any purpose.

More shots pierced the air, and the sound of the Tyrants charge made her turn as she watched in horror as it caught Barry as he tried to get out of its way, swatting him across the concrete. Grit and dust blanketed his body as he skidded over the left edge of the pad.

_Oh no… _She swallowed, watching the oldest team member struggle desperately to get back to his feet, but could only manage to get to his knees. Chris was hunting out bullets for the Magnum, temporarily unable to assist. Her eyes fell back on Jill, who was starting to move herself from a less prone position, but not fast enough to be of use.

"Barry…" Jill hissed through tightly clenched teeth, clutching her shoulder with a shaky hand. Fighting the pain, she tested the use of her arm. First the fingers, then the whole hand, following up to the elbow. They were fine. Trying to rotate the shoulder proved much harder though. She would be lucky to avoid a dislocation or even a break.

When Rebecca turned back, she froze in her crouch position like a deer caught in the headlights.

Barry was no longer the Tyrant's target.

They were.

It took its time crossing the helipad towards them, its lipless grin leering at her with intent. Shaking, she rose as quickly as she could back to her feet. He was within ten long paces of her and all she had was her Beretta.

If the Magnum and shotgun barely phased it, what the heck was her little pea-shooter going to do?

She didn't want to waste a single second on such a pointless question. She had to fight with what she had. Her aim went for the beating heart exposed on the upper left of his chest.

She couldn't have pressed the trigger fast enough. _BANG, BANG. BANG! _With hope the only feeling still keeping her fighting, she hoped she'd puncture the taunting organ. Any little damage would be a consolation.

The gun rocked in her hand as the sweat trickled down her face and into her eyes. But no matter how many bullets she pumped in its direction, not a single one did foreseeable damage.

It just kept coming, unimpressed by her assault.

Then… The gun clicked dry.

She was completely out of ammo.

She gaped in horror, glued to the spot. A part of her couldn't accept this turn of events and she kept jamming the trigger with desperation, as if doing so would some how bring a miracle.

_No! Stay away from me! _She finally gave up on her gun, taking a quick step back and almost tripping over Jill's foot. There was nowhere to run as in seconds, it was practically on top of her. Gasping, she was snatched of her feet by the throat. Her Beretta fell from her hand.

Before her line of sight, the sky, the trees and the walls surrounding the helipad. Below, the Tyrant and its empty stare. It was rearing back its clawed arm, ready to impale her through the sternum. All she could do was struggle to no avail.

_BOOM!! BOOM!!_

A split second before it could launch its attack, the two shots had blared out. Just behind the hulking grey mass, she could see Chris unloading into the spine of her foe. A shudder of rage ran through its frame and it immediately dropped her, right on top of Jill, turning promptly, to charge directly at Chris. As he attempted to leap out of the way, it swung its claw under and clipped his legs just at the last second, the momentum flipping over in a three hundred sixty turn twice, finally landing a few metres away on his back. Though he was in pain, he was in better condition then what had become ground he'd been standing on - gouged inches deep by the Tyrants abdominal claw.

From Rebecca's position, she could see Chris was bleeding, but how badly she couldn't guess. He vocally expressed his discomfort, forcing himself to scramble to a safer position seconds before the monster stabbed the ground where he'd been laid.

The Tyrant continued to pursue his stumbling form, the sight of blood an enticing lure.

Rebecca rolled off Jill and back to her knees, searching out her useless weapon from where it had fallen. She stared at it with abject frustration and slammed it back into her holster. Not far from her, she found Jill's shotgun where it had fallen and without hesitation snatched it from the ground. Mumbling an apology, she plucked the remaining shells from Jill's utility belt and pocketed them. Without a second to waste, she sprinted to another corner of the platform.

Barry was northeast of her position in the opposite corner, still reeling from the backhander. Chris was upright but limping, though he didn't have enough distance to safely let off a shot. The Tyrant wasn't watching the young medic, so she shrewdly circled until she was facing across from his back, all the while loading her weapon. Snapping the chamber closed, she took aim at one of its trunk-like legs and fired.

It stumbled, slamming its claw into the ground to stop itself from toppling. The shotgun spat out the remaining shell as the angered monster turned in her direction. With gritted teeth, she repeated the process, the gun rocking between her hands as she struck out at that same leg. It staggered a step, but still managed to charge in her direction, albeit a little slower then its previous stampedes.

"REBECCA!" She heard Jill's pained voice cry out. There was no need to acknowledge her colleague - all she needed to do was act.

A split second later, Rebecca had leapt aside into a not-so perfect roll just as the Tyrant pounded a dent into the ground where she'd stood.

But she hadn't got quite enough away, as just as she stood, it cuffed her across the back and sent her flying. The shotgun left her grip and clattered somewhere out of reach.

The minute she hit the ground, the air left her lungs. She couldn't breath; couldn't even cry out because her chest was too tight. Spots danced in her eyes when she blinked and her back went into a burning spasm. Tears in a warm rush poured down her dirty face. One cheek was stinging like crazy, and she could feel the blood dribble and spread out beneath her on the concrete.

Her body ached heavily, protesting with avidness that she shouldn't move, even as she tested each limb, just to be sure nothing was broken

No matter the pain, she had to keep on fighting. She couldn't fall at the final hurdle, not after everything she'd been through.

_I won't be beaten! I won't! _She inwardly shouted at herself, struggling with each painful movement to get back to her knees. Each limb quaked as it strained to hold up her own meagre body weight. She knew she had to focus on anything else but the pain, but all that seemed to come to mind was a digital clock, and the very little time they had on it fading away.

There had to be some way to beat the unseeingly unstoppable obstacle before them…

The Tyrant, which had been focused on her once more, was stopped in its approach when a grenade round struck it in the upper back and shoulders. It arched, showing brief signs of pain before stoically turning towards Jill, who had managed to get back to her feet, though was struggling to hold the weapon with one arm in bad shape.

"You viral freak!" She spat at the silent goliath, fumbling to jam in a cluster of rounds. "Go back to the cesspit you crawled out of!"

It strode swiftly towards her, a limp still in its step - its maniacal grin gaping furiously as it raised its claw up overhead.

Jill opened fire. The round that struck it in the face was filled with acid.

It thrashed about in agony, a growling roar rising into the air. Jill dodged off to the left, clear out of the line of sight for Chris and Barry as they reunited to open fire with their powerful weapons. The crescendo of gunfire boomed thunderously in the crisp, clear air, somewhat masked by the still hovering chopper, shadowing Rebecca with its silvery-grey shell.

The young nurse had ended up collapsing onto her back, her body refusing to do much else for the time being. She touched her blood-coated cheek, drawing her fingers back to stare blankly at the crimson splash marking each of the digits. It didn't hurt quite so much anymore - a numbness had seemed to set in throughout her body. Looking up through her wind-jostled fringe, she squinted up at the chopper just as a glint of morning light caught upon a mysterious object being pushed through the side hatch. Seconds later, a green, rectangular objected was dropped right smack centre of the helipad with a hefty clank. It lay a few feet in-between the Tyrant, Chris and Barry.

Brad's voice echoed over a loud speaker above their heads. "Here! Kill it, whatever it is!"

The Tyrant didn't even acknowledge the voice above its head. It was no longer effected by the acid that had eaten into a portion of its face, leaving skin and bone scorched and ragged. Its only goal was to eradicate the swarming 'insects' that blatantly refused to die.

Chris and Barry ceased fire as Jill suddenly dove in front of them, grabbing the object Brad had dropped. She hauled the heavy looking item to her shoulder, grimacing the whole time with the strain that it put on her bad arm.

Rebecca could clearly see what it was now.

A rocket launcher.

This was their last chance.

Jill closed one eye as she peered into the sight piece. "You lose, ugly!" The second the Tyrant stampeded towards her was the second she pulled the trigger. With an ear splitting hiss, a rocket burst through a bubble of smoke, racing directly at their adversary.

Its biggest mistake the Tyrant made was to ignore the threat of the rocket. On impact, the projectile tore right through its chest, the fiery explosion eating away at its humungous frame in an instant. Whole limbs were ripped away and thrown across the concrete, flesh and bone raining down in a smouldering mess.

The monster was now nothing more then chunks of burning meat not even fit for a pig's slurry.

Rebecca sat up, blinking with surprise as the heat blew against her just after detonation; mouth gaping, she could barely react to what she had seen.

It had to be a miracle handed to them directly from God.

Jill half collapsed, the rocket launcher falling away to one side as she turned herself towards the helicopter, frantically waving with her one good arm. The other had gone completely limp at her side.

"GET DOWN HERE!" Barry roared, his voice almost swallowed by the vociferous sound of whirring blades.

Chris had managed to get to Rebecca's side, helping her up to her feet, even supporting her despite his own obvious injury. "Rebecca-"

"I'll be fine. We've got about forty seconds left! Its now or never if we're gonna get out of here!"

Before the helicopter could even touch down, Barry fully opened the heavy door to the passenger cabin. He climbed inside, holding his arm out to Jill, whom gladly accepted the help. Chris and Rebecca hurried as best they could to the awaiting helicopter, hovering barely inches above the ground. Barry took Rebecca's hand first and pulled her inside. She immediately fell against the seats, looking up to see Brad staring directly at her from the front. The shock in his expression had paled his face to white.

Barry finally tugged Chris inside, who joined Jill on the opposite seats, sinking down on the leather, all his energy spent.

"GO! GO!" Rebecca found herself screaming. "THIS PLACE IS GOING UP IN TWENTY SECONDS!"

She didn't need to tell the pilot twice. The helicopter began to rise in a hasty retreat, the ground suddenly feet away before Barry had the strength to get the door closed again. He fell onto the same bench as Rebecca, who slid down to the other side, collapsing against the other door.

Soon, the helipad was far below them, and the tree tops swallowed the ground below like an ocean of green leaves. Brad circled the chopper around, ascending higher and higher so they wouldn't be caught in the blast zone.

Rebecca's uninjured cheek slid against the cold metal of the door as she inched herself up to look out of the window. A distance below, she could see the front of the mansion. It looked so peaceful…

… Such a deceptive appearance for what lay within.

She clutched a hand to her chest, thinking of the men who lay within that house - her dead comrades. Leaving them behind without a chance of a proper burial was a heartbreaking affair.

_BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!_

And the mansion was gone - consumed in thick orange and yellow flames that rose high up from the Earth, swallowing the building in its destructive force. It was powerful enough to send vibrations throughout the helicopter. The area around it, trees and all, were swept up by the rush of flames, which soon faded into a choking mushroom cloud that climbed up towards the heavens. Thankfully, they had escaped its devastating touch, leaving it all far behind. The crater of the mansion site was too far away for them to see now, aside the thick line of black smoke that remained after the cloud had dissipated.

_Goodbye… _She inwardly whispered to her lost Bravo's, pushing herself back upright into her seat. A heavy sigh fell from her lips as her tired body sagged where she sat. Around her, the others, too, sank with exhaustion, the red leather creaking under their bodies.

"We made it…" Rebecca muttered, the thrill of their escape hardly hitting her. Tiredness and melancholy had stole any happiness she might have wanted to feel.

"Yeah… Just about…" Chris replied, turning to look at Jill, who could only nod.

Rebecca still had a few more duties to perform before she could finally call an end to her mission. She first attended to the laceration on Chris's calf, dressing it under a thick bandage. He would certainly need stitches, and maybe even further treatment, when they returned to civilization. Jill's shoulder had dislocated, though only after her feat with the rocket launcher. It took her and Barry's efforts to pop it back into place before the young medic placed her arm into a sling. Chris assisted Rebecca in cleaning up her own wounds, namely the one on her face, patching it over with a sterilised cotton pad. Barry pretty much helped himself to bandages to wrap around his sore ribs, which the medic taped into place for him on the last fold. By the time she'd finished, morning was piercing in full force through the windows, painting the inner cabins in a pure gold-yellow. The summer blue sky was going to be clear that day.

Rebecca stretched out her arms, the muscles in her back popping with a slight twinge that felt rather uncomfortable. Any other problems could wait, she had decided; all she needed to do now was rest her weary body. A part of her couldn't believe she could finally truly relax after all the stresses and strains of the last few days.

Barry, to her left, was checking his gun with great attention, meticulously cleaning the barrel with a tiny piece of cloth he'd pulled from the upper breast pocket of his flack vest. Across from them, Jill had tipped her head to rest against Chris's shoulder, having fallen fast asleep on the pain killers she'd been given while they'd been fixing her shoulder. The latter looked down at her, smiling softly and leant his own head back against the wall, glancing out the window at the sky and the thin line of clouds passing them by.

Brad was silent in the cockpit. He hadn't said a word to them at all since they'd boarded the chopper in haste, thought it was obvious he was keeping his mouth shut for the better after what had happened that night. Nobody was willing to admonish him yet, thought nobody was in the mood to forgive him either. They simply left him to the task of getting them home safely.

Rebecca moved to lay down on the bench, tucking her knees up into the fetal position. She glanced sideways up at Chris across the cabin, whose calm gaze finally converged on her as she let out a meek yawn.

A slight grin pricked his lips. "Tired, Rebecca?"

"Yeah…" She tucked her left hand under her head, resting her cheek against the back of it. "Listen, Chris… I'm sorry…"

"What for?"

"For being so… useless…"

"You weren't. Not at all…" He shook his head, smiling more. "It doesn't matter. Don't think about it anymore." He sighed, the fatigue absorbing much of the emotion he was truly feeling. "This mission was just too weird…" The words were spoken lowly, directed more at himself then in conversation with the young woman.

"Yeah…" The word came out so light, she doubted he heard it. Her eyes closed, no longer being able to fight the pull of slumber.

Her heartbeat had finally slowed to a gentle rhythm, her body relaxing to the point it was too heavy to move. Listening to the hum of the chopper's engine, she finally fell into an undisturbed sleep.


	24. Epilogue

**Hazard: Zero To One**

**By. Indigo Siren**

_Disclaimer: Resident Evil is __ to Capcom. I do not own any of the characters or situations used within the game, though the story idea and any other part not mentioned within the game are mine. This is for entertainment purposes only. All rights reserved._

**Epilogue**

She gently smoothed her fingers over the collar of her suit jacket. The material was crease free and still lingered with warmth from the iron. She'd spent long hours that morning to make sure her outfit was immaculate for the coming events of the day.

Rebecca's dress-suit, a dark charcoal colour, had only been worn three times, this being the third. The first was to her graduation ceremony, then to her job interview with S.T.A.R.S., and now for this memorial ceremony. She'd been unsure on make-up, but had decided to at least apply a little blush and lipstick, skipping on the mascara in case the waterworks kicked in.

Sometimes she wondered if she had any more tears left in her. She hated feeling so pathetic - crying when a single thought drifted to those who'd died so mercilessly. There was so much blame still lingering in her heart, mostly directed at herself, and she couldn't seem to shake the weight of it off of her shoulders.

But it wasn't just the woe dragging her soul down to the darkest depths, it was the fear, an inescapable bubble that she was trapped inside. It clutched her heart - made her tremble to her very core. Every shadow frightened her witless, as if they were stalking her everywhere she went. Anyone with a pale or drawn complexion was enough a zombie to her as the creatures still living inside her memories. It was ridiculous to compare, these living, breathing people in such away, but just one little trigger had her breaking out in a cold sweat and running for the safety of her home.

The monsters should have never crossed reality, and stayed in myth where they belonged.

The grip of terror became so much at times, that she locked her bedroom door and curled up into a tight ball beneath the quilts. She'd even taken to sleeping with her S.T.A.R.S issued Beretta at nights under her pillow as a safeguard.

But it wasn't simply reality that drew a cold sweat on her brow. It was the nightmares.

It had been a week and a half since the incident, and she hadn't had a decent nights sleep since. Plagued by the groaning zombies and the screams of her dying comrades, she found herself dosing up on coffee and leaving the television on, even if it was just a channel inundated with infomercials. It was better then trying to sleep in a room totally dipped in silence. But then again, to her fragile mind, it wasn't true silence. No, there was always some sound that snapped her eyes open darting like a frightened animal. The tree rustling outside her window, someone moving about in the apartments next to hers, even the sound of the neighbouring cat mewing on the balcony was enough to send her heart racing.

She didn't know if saying goodbye to her companions would be the beginning of the end of this nightmarish time, but she certainly had no choice but to move on and hope that her brittle psyche would soon mend itself. But part of her didn't want to say goodbye - admit they were really gone. It wasn't as if she was denying they were dead, but standing in a church and listening a priest recount the lives of these fallen men was going to drive the stake painfully further into her heart. It had been shattering enough to help make those devastating calls to their families, listening to them weep for all their worth, but seeing those people in the flesh and even making a speech before them as Chris had suggested, was going to tear her soul to pieces.

She'd never felt this way before, not about anything. But what could she expect? Nobody in known existence had gone through this same situation and survived.

She sat by the window, looking out onto the busy section that turned off onto Euston Street, one of the main roads that ran directly into Raccoon Central. The morning sunlight glared against the window, making it hard to see all the bustle that was going on below. There was movement for sure, both people and cars in continuous motion. So sequential, or better called routine.

That was life. And she thanked God for everyday she had on his green Earth.

To the side of her was her speech, scrawled onto jotter paper. Words crossed out and re-written and crossed out again in a semi-coherent mess stared back at her. She knew what to say based on what she'd managed to prepare, but she didn't know if the words would be good enough for the families to hear. Nothing would be good enough, no words or anything, to fill in the gap of a human life lost.

She had to turn away from the words on the paper, but couldn't escape the thoughts still fresh in her mind. She would never forget what happened, not for lack of trying. The horrors would be permanently imprinted inside her brain until the day she died. Certainly, she didn't want to forget her comrades, but she wanted to remember them for the time she'd spent with them before that final fateful mission.

Twisted twice around her wrist was Richard's gold chain. She'd kept it close ever since she returned to civilisation. Besides pictures she'd found in the office, this was the only real thing left of him. Something that had been of value to him before he'd died. Today, she wanted that little piece of him around while she said her goodbyes. She hoped he, and the others, might be there in spirit, to know they were going to be missed - to know they'd be never forgotten.

Her doorbell chimed like a fog horn in the hushed apartment, stirring her quite suddenly from her thoughts. Composing herself, she rose from her seat, gathering the speech notes as she proceeded out into the hall to answer it, though not before peeping through the spy hole. She had been extra vigilant in this last week.

It was Chris, as she expected, there to take her to the ceremony. Sighing quietly, she opened the door, stepping aside to let him in. "Just want to sort out my bag and I'll be ready to go," She told him as he made his way through to the lounge.

"It was so hard to pull myself out of bed this morning." He said as he slowly walked the length and breadth of the lounge, somewhat admiring her furnishing absentmindedly. Rebecca stood just out in the hallway, still within his sights, throwing numerous necessities into a small plush bag with far more depth in it then to the naked eye. "It wasn't that I wanted to avoid it, but I've been feeling out of whack a lot recently, I just didn't know if I could take anymore of it."

"I know what you mean." She slipped the speech into the muddle of her bag, and after tossing her keys inside, she made sure to cram in the four packs of pocket sized tissues. She probably wouldn't be the only one using them, and was always best to be prepared. "There's going to be quite a few people there, most of them doubtlessly are going to cry their eyes out…"

"Yeah…" He went quiet for a moment, digging his hands into his pockets. "Can't dodge it I suppose, however much I want to bury my head and ignore it."

"Misery breeds more misery…" Rebecca spoke the words softly, more to herself. She understood him perfectly. She wanted to mourn, but she wanted to do so in peace. But they had to honour their lost team mates and they had to face the numerous families who were facing an unbearable loss.

"Some of us are heading back to Barry's later. For drinks and stuff…" Chris stepped back out into the hall as Rebecca zipped up and shouldered her bag. "You going to come along?"

"Yeah. I think I could do with a drink. Just don't tell the cops, okay?" It was the first time she'd smiled in a while, and it wasn't much of one at that. He returned it.

"All set?" She nodded and he thumbed to the door. "Come on then. We might get there a little early but at least we can have some time there alone without all the hysteria. Don't know if Jill will be around there yet. I know she lives close to the church."

"I'll warn you, I'm feeling pretty shaky…"

"Don't worry about it." He clapped a hand on her shoulder. "I'm not going to break down, but I'm not exactly feeling like a pillar of strength."

She temporarily swallowed back her fragility and followed in close step after Chris.

There would be sadness, hard times that would seem never ending, but they would keep moving forward. No back-steps, no retries, just the constant motion ahead into the awaiting future.

And Rebecca promised herself that she would live to her fullest. For those who'd given up their lives for her, for those who'd always believed in her.

She would live - for the sake of peace and justice.

**The End.**

**Final A/N: And nearly two years on, we have finally reached the end. I've really enjoyed writing the story and am happy to finally bring it to an end, but at the same time, am sad that its all over. The journey has been long and I've put alot of time and effort into it, even at times doubting myself that chapters took nigh on forever to get out. I want to especially thank all my reviewers who spent the time reading and writing what you think and what you've liked about each chapter. I even thank the silent readers, too. I will be writing further Resident Evil stories, more on Rebecca as well, so keep looking out for those. Again, thank you for keeping up with me all these years while I've fought my way through right to the end. Its been a good battle and I think it was worth every second! Until next time! Bye bye!**


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